


Fifty Shades Of Barton

by BlackHawksChild, orphan_account



Series: Fifty Shades [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst at times, Baby Fic, Bad Guys Get What They Deserve, Barney Never Knows When To Shut Up, Before Joss Wheldon Betrayed Us, Bondage, Breast Fucking, Breastfeeding, Daddy!Clint, Deaf Clint Barton, Dirty Talk, Dom Clint Barton, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Flogging, Fluff and Smut, Food Sex, Humour, Kid Fic, Like Pepper Threatens Tony, Marriage, Mommy!Natasha, Multiple Orgasms, No Laura Barton, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Pregnancy, Protective Clint Barton, Roleplay, Romance, Sex Toys, Smut, Sub Natasha Romanov, Until His Fiancée Threatens No Sex, butt plug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 93,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackHawksChild/pseuds/BlackHawksChild, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like Fifty Shades Of Grey. But it's not. Book 2 of 6 (that's confirmed; I may add to the sequels).<br/>Mature Content. WARNING: contains smut, explicit sexual content, rough sex, sex toys, bondage, roleplaying, consensual food sex, consensual dominance/submissive relationship. Past-sexual abuse, child abuse. Sub-Nat Dom-Clint. </p><p>"I've seen the ugly side of you and I'm staying." </p><p>Not Avengers: Age Of Ultron Compliant But Compliant With The Movies Before It. All trolling and flaming are reported and then ignored. So please, if you don't like what I write, don't read it. I didn't write it exclusively for one person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Avengers - if I did Clintasha would be canon and we would already have a damn Budapest movie - nor do I own Fifty Shades of Grey. I'm only borrowing bits and pieces for my own twisted amusement.  
> All mistakes are my own as it isn't beta'd and I often forget to reread my writing before posting. I'll get around to correcting all mistakes. Eventually :)

**_2006..._ **

**_Gym..._ **

**_SHIELD New York base..._ **

Natasha groaned as she felt Barton pin her to the ground for the third time of their sparring match. And it hadn't passed the archer's notice either.

"Ah, Tasha... third time today I've pinned you... Is there something you're not telling me Red?" Clint teased as he pushed some of Natasha's hair to the side so he could whisper in her ear. The archer smirked as his red haired partner attempted to throw him off of her but with her body captured firmly between his hard body and the ground, her face down position gave the sniper a greater advantage.

"Barton, get off," Natasha ordered as she bucked her hips back in an attempt to throw the archer off but he was too heavy for her to do so. But that wasn't what caught her attention. The red-head could feel Clint's rock hard erection pressing into the crook of her ass.

Clint froze as he felt Natasha stop squirming in his grasp. The two both held their breath, unwilling to make the first move, afraid it would make this even more awkward than it already was.

"I'm sorry," Clint whispered as he rolled off Natasha, quickly standing up and walking over to the bench where their stuff was carelessly thrown as they had begun their sparring.

Natasha slowly stood up and followed her partner over to the bench, watching the archer carefully as he took a large gulp of water. "Barton..." the red-head started but she couldn't think of the right words to say.

"I'm sorry Nat... I got carried away... Don't think about it," Clint cut in before Natasha could continue.

"Barton, that's not the first time you've gotten hard because of pinning me," Natasha stated before she realised what she was saying.

Clint froze before turning to look at his partner whose cheeks were tinted with a blush. "It's not," he agreed as he slowly stepped closer to Natasha. "But when I first brought you in, I wouldn't let you pay off this imaginary debt you think you owe me by having sex with you. And I won't. If we ever have sex I want it to be because _you_ want _me_ too."

Natasha's mouth dropped at Clint's confession. "You want me?" the red-head whispered as if it was something that was completely unbelievable.

Instead of answering her straight away, Clint closed the gap between them and pinned Natasha to the wall. "Yes," he whispered in her ear as he pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel her effect on him. "You can't really be that oblivious to the effect you have on me Tasha... But I want you to want me... Without all the walls you've built," he whispered softly.

Natasha couldn't stop the wave of arousal that ran through her as Clint's heavy breathing deepened against her ear while he continued to press his body against hers and pin her to the wall, both her wrists caught in one of his large archery roughened hands.

"Can I trust you? Can I trust you enough to submit control Clint?" Natasha whispered, surprising the archer.

"You want to submit?" Clint whispered, watching Natasha carefully as she ducked her head in shy embarrassment. "Look at me Natasha," he ordered as he used his free hand to grasp the red-head's chin gently. "Answer me Natasha. Now."

"Yes. I want to submit to you," Natasha whispered, her deep green eyes locked with her partner's stormy grey ones.

Clint growled possessively before suddenly claiming Natasha's mouth hungrily. Natasha moaned as she opened her lips, allowing her partner to push his tongue into her willing mouth. The archer brought his free hand to the red haired spy's hair, burying his hand there and controlling their kiss more firmly. This wasn't their first kiss, per say, but it was the first time it wasn't for a mission, to save or concrete a cover.

Suddenly Clint broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Natasha's, the two panting heavily as they caught their breath. "My apartment. Straight after our meeting with Coulson," the archer stated, leaving no room for argument.

Natasha nodded slightly before slowly leaning forward to rest her face in the crook of Clint's neck. "Okay... I trust you," she mumbled softly in her mother tongue, making the archer smile softly as he released her wrists.

"And I you Nat..." Clint replied as he slowly stepped back, releasing the red-head from between the wall and his hard body. "You okay?" he asked, watching her for any signs of discomfort.

"Yes... why?" Natasha asked as she frowned in confusion.

"We'll talk about it later. But I want to know that you're okay," Clint replied, easily explaining himself honestly to his partner. "We have only been partners for the past year Nat, and have known each other for a further six months... but I want... I need to know that you're okay."

Natasha smiled slightly as she nodded; Clint's appearance to most was the image of a cocky, arrogant ex-marine. But not to her. To the red haired ex-Russian, he was every bit the gentleman. Kind. Concerned for her well-being. Caring. Joking. Trustworthy. Loyal. "Okay," she whispered, making Clint smile in return.

Clint reached up and brushed a stray lock from Natasha's face, smiling at her softly. "Come on... We should get to the meeting... Means we can get out quicker," he whispered, making the red-head grin at his conspirational statement.

* * *

 

Natasha groaned as she entered the garage, her mind wrecked from the five hour meeting with Coulson, Director Fury and Agent Hill.

"So I'm not the only one who got frustrated and bored at that stupid meeting," Clint stated knowingly as he entered the garage behind his red haired partner.

"That meeting did not need to last five hours... no fucking meeting does," Natasha growled before relaxing slightly as Clint pressed his hand to the small of her back.

"What do you want for dinner? Chinese? Thai? Anything?" Clint asked as he tried to relax the red haired ex-Russian.

"Mmmm... Chinese," Natasha whispered as she watched Clint take her bag and put both into his car; she'd hitched a ride with him since she had still to be given her actual American Driver's Licence.

"Okay. Then get in the car," he ordered gently, waiting for her to do as he said before getting in on the driver's side himself.

"You're already giving me orders," Natasha noted with a teasing smirk, watching her partner out of the corner of her eye.

Clint froze slightly at Natasha's words. "Sorry," he murmured softly and started the car.

Natasha's smirk dropped as she noticed her partner's body language. She reached over and rested a reassuring hand on Clint's arm. "Hey, hey. Relax. I was only joking."

Clint visibly relaxed at Natasha's words but kept quiet as he pulled out of the New York base and headed towards his apartment block. "You said you wanted Chinese... I know this takeaway place that makes a mean Chinese," the archer stated, switching the subject easily.

"Okay," Natasha replied, leaning back and closing her eyes as she relaxed, trusting herself in her partner's driving skill.

* * *

 

"Told you," Clint said with a smirk as he watched Natasha finish her Chinese in record time.

"Remind me to send you food shopping anymore then," Natasha shot back playfully, smirking when she noticed Clint's eyes dilate slightly at her banter.

"Woman's job is to cook," Clint replied cheekily, making Natasha narrow her eyes at him as she stood up and walked over to him.

Natasha smirked as she pushed Clint back in his chair before moving into his lab and straddling the archer. "What else is 'the woman's job' Barton?" the red-head whispered seductively as her partner rested his hands possessively on her hips.

"It's a woman's job to cook... To clean... To listen to her man and follow his orders..." Clint stated, staying very still as he watched her reaction to that last one.

"And what orders do you want me to follow now?" she whispered seductively in his ear. He shuddered beneath her.

"Are you sure you want to get into this with me? If you say no, it won't change anything. You can walk away and nothing will change between us," Clint assured her.

"Of course I'm sure Clint. I've never been more sure," she smiled sweetly.

"Okay, then we should talk about limits and safe words and everything before we come close to having sex. We need to be sure we both know what we are getting into..." he whispered softly, watching her like a hawk. "I don't want to do anything that reminds you of the Red Room..."

"I trust you Clint," Natasha whispered softly, making Clint smile at her gently.

"Hard limits... I'm not causing you pain Nat," Clint stated firmly, making Natasha smile softly as she rested her head in the crook of Clint's neck before gasping in surprise as her partner suddenly stood up, his arms planted firmly under the deadly curve of her ass and carried her out into the sitting room.

Gently, the archer sat down on the couch with Natasha still in his lap. The red-head had her arms wrapped around her partner's neck.

"So hard limits...?" Natasha started as she shifted slightly in Clint's lap so she could look him in the eye.

"I'm positively, absolutely not using canes or whips on you," Clint stated firmly, watching Natasha carefully as she nodded her agreement.

"I don't think I'd ever be able to take them either," she whispered, her hands playing the short strands of hair on the nape of Clint's neck. "But I want to at least try floggers and riding crops," she added softly, keeping an eye on Clint's reaction.

Clint closed his eyes and nodding, trying to control his body from tensing. "Soft limits," he whispered eventually as he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"I'm not sure about blindfolds or gags either... so they're soft limits too..." Natasha whispered as she stopped the ministrations on Clint's neck.

"Of course," Clint whispered before moving so he was lying on the couch with Natasha on top, her face now resting in the crook of his neck. "What about bondage?"

"I have a soft limit of being tied up Clint. I'm not fond of the idea of not being able to escape but I would try it for you," Natasha answered taking a deep breath as she remembered all the times she had been tied up and used during her time in the Red Room.

"Nat, I'm not like those bastards from the Red Room... I won't tie you up unless you really want me to," Clint whispered as he wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist protectively.

"I know... I trust you..." Natasha whispered as she allowed herself to feel safe in her partner's arms. "I know that I'm safe with you," she murmured softly against the skin of Clint's neck.

"Any toys you know you want... Any you don't want...?" Clint asked, stroking one hand up and down Natasha's back tenderly.

"No canes and whips, we've established that... I think I'd be comfortable with you using riding crops, floggers, dildos, vibrators and plugs on me... but I've little to no knowledge of actual sex toys," Natasha confessed, making Clint pause slightly in surprise.

Clint gently pressed his lips against the crown of Natasha's head, nuzzling his mouth and nose in her wavy red hair, silently comforting the ex-Russian about her past of sexual abuse in the Red Room as she was growing up. "We need safe words... verbal and nonverbal," he stated as he felt his partner relax further into his touch.

"Red for stop... black for slow down," Natasha mumbled against Clint's neck.

"Okay... what about nonverbal?" Clint asked, stroking Natasha's back softly.

"I break you fingers," Natasha joked, stifling a giggle when Clint chuckled at her; she would not admit just how much his caring and respect for her made her feel.

"Seriously...? Thanks... That'll so make it clear we aren't doing anything behind close doors," Clint retorted, pausing when Natasha lifted her head to look him in the eye.

"About that... Behind closed doors, yes, I want you in total control... But at work and in public, we're equals... Unless our aliases at work have you as a dominant, we're equals," Natasha stated calmly, unsure of how her partner would react.

"Nat, I wouldn't have it any other way. And I don't want anyone to see what I see... You without your masks is something I want for myself... Do you think that's too controlling? Too selfish?"

Natasha shook her head, smiling shyly at Clint. "No, that's perfect... I only ever want to submit myself to you," she confessed softly.

Clint smiled in reply and brought one hand to brush a few strands of red hair from Natasha's face. "Kiss me," he ordered softly, smiling as he watched his partner bite her bottom lip shyly.

"Yes sir," Natasha whispered before leaning down and pressing her lips to Clint's, smiling as he pressed back enthusiastically.

Slowly, Clint slipped his tongue between his lips against Natasha's cupid bow lips, praying to whatever God that did exist that she grant him entry.

And his prayers were answered.

Natasha gasped as she allowed Clint entry to her mouth, his tongue easily beating hers while the archer slowly twisted them so he was on top.

The red-head moaned into the kiss as she allowed Clint to bury one hand in her hair while his other hand gripped her hip possessively but gentle enough for her to escape his grasp if she needed to.

Slowly Clint broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Natasha's. "Nat... have you ever had sex because you've wanted to... and not just to fuck but actually mean something?" the archer asked as they caught their breath.

Natasha shook her head shyly at her partner's question, blushing slightly as the archer caught her chin so she would look him in the eye. "I don't trust anyone enough to sleep with them Clint... and definitely not marks... Only you... I used to be raped when I was growing up in the Red Room... My trainers used to tie me up and gang rape me... the worst being when I showed mercy to the other girls or I failed a mission," the ex-Russian whispered softly, closing her eyes at the memories created by her confession.

Clint frowned and gently pulled back, making Natasha frown as panic spread through her but easily relaxed when the archer picked her up bridal style and carried her to his bedroom. "I'm gonna make love to you Nat... show you how precious you are to me," he whispered softly in Russian as he lay her down on his bed.

The archer stood back and let his grey hawk eyes trail over his partner's body, the twenty-seven-year-old unable to decide where he wanted to start worshipping the twenty-one-year-old.

"Clint?" Natasha whispered as she watched her partner's eyes scan over her body, making the red-head unnaturally self-conscious.

"You're so beautiful Nat... I don't know where I want to start worshipping you," Clint confessed before quickly removing his own top and pants off, leaving him in his boxer briefs, and crawling onto the bed and onto Natasha.

"Clint," Natasha moaned as said man began to pepper wet butterfly kisses along her neck. "Want you," she gasped as the archer gently tugged her top upwards.

"Hush Nat... Let me take care of you, Baby," he whispered hotly against her neck, only pulling away to remove her top but quickly returning to her neck.

Natasha tossed her head back in pleasure as Clint found her sweet spot. The spot just behind her left ear, not covered by her red hair. "Clint... please..." she gasped, her hands unconsciously making their way to Clint's neck and back.

"Sssshhhhush Nat... I'm in charge... just let me take care of you," Clint whispered seductively in her ear, making Natasha moan in reply. The archer slowly kissed his way down Natasha's chest, peppering hot, sucking kisses along the top of her bra cups. "Perfect," he whispered softly before he gently ran his tongue over the fabric covering her harden nipples.

"Oh God," Natasha gasped in pleasure, tossing her head back in ecstasy as Clint tugged down her left bra cup to wrap his lips around her erect nipple, sucking hungrily and biting gently on the areola.

"You're speaking in Russian Nat," Clint noted cheekily as he slipped his hands under her back, easily undoing her bra hooks and stripping the material from her pale body.

"Tease," Natasha responded as Clint leaned down and took her right nipple in his mouth, teasing her the same way he had done with her left.

"Mmmm..." Clint hummed in response, gently tugging on her nipple before releasing it from between his teeth and blowing gently on her.

Natasha felt her body relax into Clint's ministrations, her hawk-eyed partner literally worshipping his body with his lips. Her only movement was raising her hips when Clint tugged down on her sweats, hooking his fingers under the waistband of her panties.

Clint smirked cheekily as he took Natasha's appearance in. "So you are a natural red-head," he whispered, grinning smugly as he tossed her pants and underwear behind him.

"Pervert," Natasha mumbled, shyly covering her face as Clint gently trailed his left hand along the inside of the red-head's right thigh.

"Meh, I prefer the idea of a curious Hawk," Clint whispered as he lay down on his stomach so his face was level with Natasha's sex. "Relax Nat, I'm not going to hurt you Baby," he whispered gently before using his right hand to spread her folds for his eyes only.

Slowly, as not to startle the red-head, Clint leaned in and gently ran his nose along her slit, smiling when he felt rather than heard her moan of pleasure. The archer grabbed his partner's hands in his, interlacing their fingers gently as he slid his tongue along her entrance.

"Clint... please..." Natasha moaned loudly, tossing her head back in pleasure as Clint gently ran his tongue along her entrance. She couldn't stop the strangled gasp of ecstasy that escaped her throat when her archer slowly wrapped his lips around her clit.

"Sshhh... Let me," Clint mumbled against her lower lips, then sucking hungrily and nipping gently on her bundle of nerves, grinning when the red-head arched her back high and cried out his name in pleasure at his actions.

Natasha tightened her grip on Clint's hands as he pleasured her with his mouth. Had she known that her partner was this good, she would've submitted to him much sooner.

Just as she was about to reach her climax, Clint pulled away and kissed his way up her body. Natasha groaned in frustration before moaning in pleasure as he pressed his lips against hers, tasting herself on his lips.

"I want to make you come around me Nat... Is that okay?" Clint whispered as he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Natasha's, waiting for her reply.

"Take me Clint... Please," Natasha requested - not begged, Natasha Romanoff did not beg.

"Okay," Clint whispered before pecking her lips gently. Then he got off the bed and stripped himself of his boxers.

Natasha whistled when Clint stripped himself of his boxers, her eyes greedily taking him in. "Are you sure you're gonna be able to fit Barton?" she teased even though she was mentally sizing him up; he was at least nine inches and thick. She was sure she was gonna take some time to get used to his size.

"Nat, this is about you... I'm not going to hurt you," Clint replied as he climbed back onto the bed, reaching into his bedside locker for a condom while kissing Natasha softly.

Natasha reached out ad stopped Clint's search for rubber. "I'm on a Depo shot... and clean... If you are too," she mumbled shyly, watching Clint carefully

Clint groaned and closed his eyes at Natasha's words, a low growl coming from his chest. Slowly opening his eyes, he grinned and kissed her hungrily. "You have no idea how much you turn me on Nat," he growled against her lips, grinning as she moaned when he grinded his hips against hers.

"I think I have an idea," Natasha whispered against Clint's lips, grinning sexily as Clint slid his tongue into her willing mouth, easily dominating their kiss.

Clint gently broke the kiss as he positioned himself at Natasha's entrance, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he slowly slid inside her, growling at the tight grip of her walls around his cock.

Natasha gasped as Clint slid inside her, the red-head keeping her body as still as possible as she adjusted to his length inside her. "Fuck. Clint," she whispered as Clint rested his forehead against hers.

"Ditto Nat," Clint whispered, taking Natasha's hands in his once more, waiting for his partner to become adjusted to his length. "Fuck, you are so tight," he mumbled before pecking her lips gently.

Slowly, Natasha wrapped her legs around Clint's hips, sending him deeper inside her tight entrance. The two moaned their approval at the red-head's actions. Clint gently pinned Natasha's hands to the bed as he slowly pulled out of her ten slided back inside her. The action resulted in both moaning in approval.

"Clint... faster... no teasing," Natasha pleaded, throwing her head back as Clint dipped his head and traded sucking kisses on her tits with each of his thrusts.

"Patience Natasha," Clint whispered against Natasha's chest, grinning as he began to thrust faster and deeper per his partner's request.

"Oh god... please... Clint," Natasha moaned in her mother tongue, tightening her grip around Clint's waist and fingers.

Clint groaned before capturing the spy's lips, kissing her desperately as he quickened his pace, driving his hips into hers. Natasha screamed in pleasure at his actions, kissing him back with equal passion.

Clint broke the kiss so that they could both catch their breath, their hips never stopping the rhythm they had so easily found together.

Natasha could not stop the sounds coming from her mouth that were the results of her partner's actions. Her moans, gasps, groans and screams of pleasure were far from quiet as the archer drove her body to the edge. And soon she would be tipping over the edge.

A sudden, deeper thrust on Clint's part sent Natasha over the edge, crying out his name in pleasure as she came hard for him.

Clint thrust two, three more times before letting go inside her, shouting out her name as he came hard. The archer collapsed on top of his partner as the two came down from their respective highs.

Slowly Clint pulled out of Natasha, making the two whine at the loss of contact before the archer pecked her lips tenderly. Gently the twenty-seven-year-old climbed off the bed and prodded into the adjoining bathroom only to return with a washcloth for Natasha.

Natasha watched her partner as he gently cleaned her lower body, the archer making sure she was one hundred percent happy with him washing her so intimately.

Once he was finished cleaning his partner, Clint quickly cleaned himself and returned the washcloth to the bathroom. Natasha rested on her right side, facing the bathroom. She smiled softly at her partner as he re-entered the bedroom, watching him climb back into the bed behind her.

Clint gently stoked one hand along Natasha's side, watching her carefully. "Stay?" he whispered as he felt Natasha stiffen in front of him.

"I... no one's ever made me feel like that," Natasha whispered as she let the archer wrap his arms around her body, pulling her back to him, his front curled perfectly against her back.

"I want to make you feel like that every chance I get Nat... that's only the beginning," Clint replied, pulling the covers over their bodies. "But I need you to let me," he added softly, pressing a kiss to the back of her head.

"I.. time... in time, I think I'll be able to open up to you. Fully... I just need a bit of time to get used to being so open," Natasha whispered, pausing slightly as she waited for the archer to respond to her confession.

"I can live with that Nat... I've told you before how fucked up I am... Fifty shades of fuckedupness... So as I'll be requiring the same need, take all the time you need, Darlin'... I'm not going anywhere," Clint whispered gently. "Now sleep," he ordered as he recognised the signs of exhaustion in Natasha's muscles.

"Yes Sir," Natasha whispered as she did as she was told, finding comfort in Clint's arms.

Clint smiled as he watched Natasha drift off, his eyes locked on her beautiful face - void of any make-up - leaning on his elbow to get the perfect view of her. The archer stayed like this for much of the night, finding comfort in his vigil of watching his lover...


	2. Breakfast

Natasha signed as she slowly woke up, her body warm and relaxed for the first time in a long time. She nuzzled her face into what she presumed was her pillow but was instead met with the hard, muscled chest of her partner. Her actions resulted immediately in bringing back the memories of the previous night. The way Clint brought her to the edge and beyond. His slow passionate worship of her body. The red-head's thoughts were quickly drawn to the idea that this would change their relationship but soon pushed it to the back of her mind when she felt her partner brush his hand across her back.

Slowly, Natasha raised her head to look at her partner, smiling shyly as she found Clint wide awake and watching her tenderly. "Hi," she whispered softly, finding herself surprisingly shy in the presence of the archer.

"Morning Nat," Clint replied as he gently pushed a few stray locks from her face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, watching the ex-Russian carefully as he waited for her response.

Natasha blushed shyly and ducked her head in embarrassment - something not usually associated with the ex-Russian spy. Clint placed her left hand under her chin, gently lifting her face until they were eye to eye. "Don't hide from me Nat. Please," Clint requested softly.

Natasha nodded as she relaxed her body to Clint's caring touch. "I'm okay. Last night was... memorable," she whispered softly, closing her eyes at her partner's soft touch.

"Yeah? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Clint whispered as he stroked Natasha's cheek tenderly.

"No. Definitely not," she replied, sighing slightly before her eyes shot open as a thought crossed her mind. "How long have you been watching me?" she asked, remembering how her partner had been watching her as she woke up.

"Not much longer than five minutes... I like watching you sleep. You looked peaceful," Clint replied, smiling as Natasha blushed uncharacteristically at his compliment.

"Thanks," she whispered, making Clint chuckle at her gently.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he whispered, making his intentions clear as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Natasha smiled against Clint's lips as the archer slowly rolled them so he was on top of her. He easily moved onto his elbows so his weight wasn't crushing his partner.

Clint slowly slid his tongue over Natasha's lips, begging her for entrance. The red-head moaned, giving her partner access into her mouth. The archer easily slid his tongue over Natasha's, smiling into the kiss as she brought her hands up to his hair.

The two broke apart, panting heavily even though neither could wipe the grins off their faces. Suddenly, Clint pecked her lips gently and climbed off the bed.

"I'll be right back, Nat," he stated as he exited the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Natasha threw her head back as she waited for Clint to return, her body relaxing into the sheets of the archer's bed. She closed her eyes and waited, biting her bottom lip as she replayed the events from the night before. And it didn't help the pooling of wetness between her legs.

"I was thinking we could have strawberries and chocolate syrup for breakfast," Clint stated, surprising Natasha who hadn't noticed him re-entering the bedroom.

Natasha grinned and leaned up on her elbows. "Strawberries and chocolate syrup? I have to say, this might end up messy," she teased, cocking her head sideways.

"Well, personally, I believe _you_ should be dirty before _I_ clean you up," he replied with ease. The archer made his way over to the bed with a small plastic tub of strawberries and the bottle of chocolate syrup.

"Mmmm... I like that idea," Natasha whispered as she watched him crawl back on the bed and on top of her. "Does this mean I won't be going home to shower?" she asked, mentally frowning as she thought about if she had any clean clothes in her gym bag.

"No... I would hope to convince you to stay here. Maybe shower with me once I get you dirty enough," he replied, grinning smugly as he put the food on the bed beside her. "If you'd like, that is..."

Natasha smirked as she pretended to think about it. "I thought a woman's job was - and I quote - ' _to listen to her man and follow his orders?_ '" she asked, watching her partner as he pause slightly above her.

"But it's always your choice Nat. It will always be your choice," Clint replied before leaning down and gently pressing his lips to hers.

Natasha smiled into the kiss and brought her hands up to Clint's face, cupping his jaw tenderly as they kissed gently but softly. "Okay," she whispered as they pulled away.

Clint smiled as began to pepper kisses over Natasha's face as he reached for a few strawberries. Pulling away, he offered one to the red-head, a happy gleam in his grey eyes.

Natasha purposely pouted, making Clint growl possessively. "Don't pout Nat... I want to make this last," he whispered, his eyes darkening further with desire.

"Okay," Natasha appeased, smirking as she opened her mouth and allowed Clint to place the fruit in her mouth. She hummed her approval as she ate, closing her eyes and enjoying the juicy fruit.

"You like?" he whispered as he grabbed the bottle of syrup. Slowly, he sprayed some of the syrup between Natasha's breasts, grinning smugly when she gasped in surprise at his actions. Leaning down, the archer used his tongue to follow the trail. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he did so.

"Oh god... Clint," Natasha moaned as she threw her head back, groaning as Clint sprayed some syrup on both of her nipples, before sucking it off.

"I think I should have you for breakfast," Clint murmured as he lapped at her nipples like a starving child.

"Yes... oh god yes," she moaned, bringing her hands to Clint's hair, panting with pleasure as he played with her tits.

Clint grinned as he placed two strawberries on Natasha's sternum. Slowly, he bit into one of the strawberries, smirking smugly as the juices slid down her porcelain pale skin.

Clint slowly lapped up the juices as he continued his pathway down her body. Natasha moaned as he licked and lapped at a mixture of the strawberry juice and the chocolate syrup.

Slowly but steadily, Natasha felt her climax begin to spiral faster and faster. Suddenly, Clint pulled away, panting heavily with his eyes practically black from desire and some other emotion the ex-Russian wasn't so sure she wanted to approach. Yet.

"Hold your knees Nat. I can't have you distracting me," Clint instructed as he placed Natasha's hands just under her knees. In this position, the red haired beauty was holding herself open for her brown-blonde haired lover.

Once he was content with her position, Clint grabbed three strawberries and sprayed some of the syrup on Natasha's sex. He then placed the strawberries on the syrup; two right in between her folds and the third on her clit.

Natasha moaned Clint's name in pleasure as he began to literally eat her out. He placed his own hands on top of hers as he slowly licked and sucked some of the syrup off her sex.

Clint grinned smugly as he listened to Natasha's pleas and groans and moans of ecstasy as he stroked her pleasure higher and higher only to stop. And then start again.

"Oh... Please... Clint," she gasped, unable to form any proper coherent thought.

"Mine," Clint whispered softly but possessively as he finished eating the strawberries and syrup off her.

"Yours," Natasha agreed, barely noticing what she was saying. But that was the thing about their relationship; he made her do things her assassin side - her _Black Widow_ façade - would never let her do.

"Good... Now that we've established that... I think I should make you come now," Clint whispered just as he began his proper assault on her. He slowly slid his middle finger into her. Then his index.

"Oh fuck... Clint... Please... Oh god please," Natasha moaned, tossing her head back in pleasure as the archer sucked and nibbled hungrily on her clit.

"Mmmm... Tasha," Clint groaned in reply, crooking his fingers against the right sweet spot inside her, sending Natasha far over the edge. In addition to Clint's crooking of his fingers, his last nipping suck on her clit had the red haired ex-Russian spraying her juices all over his face and hand, screaming out his name as her world soon went dark from ecstasy.

* * *

Natasha panted heavily as she came back from the orgasm Clint had so easily drove her to. Slowly she opened her eyes to find her partner smiling at her softly with her juices still dripping from his handsome face. "Wow," she whispered once she regained coherent thought and consciousness.

"I could have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day," he stated, making her blush deeply in response.

"I can't believe you just said that," she whispered in shock just as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. His left hand made its way from where it was resting on her hip down to her sex. Slowly, he stroked Natasha's clit with his thumb before rolling them so she was on top of him.

"Need you," Clint murmured in between kisses.

"You have me," Natasha whispered against his lips, willingly letting her partner move her until she was positioned above him. Knowing that the archer had haphephobia, she placed her hands on Clint's biceps, gasping in pleasure as she waited to adjust to his considerable length once more.

"Fuck. Nat," Clint whispered as he placed his hands on Natasha's hips, holding her still. "Slow. I want to savour this," he added, watching the red-head carefully.

Natasha could only nod, her body basically drawing a blank as a result of Clint's ability to cause her pleasure.

Slowly, Clint sat up so they were nose to nose. "Feel me," he ordered softly, slowly helping her to begin rocking her hips over his. "All of me."

"Clint... oh god..." Natasha moaned, tossing her head back as she moved faster. She rose up and with Clint's help, began a steady rhythm of riding him hard.

"That's it Baby... Give it to me," he ordered as he felt the tale tail sign of her quivering walls around his length.

"Ah... Clint... Oh," she gasped, moaning as he grabbed the back of her head and claimed her lips hungrily just as they both fell over the edge. They called out each other’s' names as they came together, gasping and panting as they slowly came down from their highs.

"What time do we have to be at base at?" Natasha murmured against Clint's chest. Her actions making sure only her cheek was pressed near his scarred chest as a result of his abusive, drunken father when he was a child. Despite her urge to press her lips to the scars that were caused so intimately by his own father.

"Not until 15.00. We've a two hour briefing. So sleep now Nat. I'll wake you for a shower and breakfast," Clint instructed, gently rubbing one hand along Natasha's spine with his left hand.

"Please sleep too Clint," Natasha murmured before doing as she was told, her dreams captured by the image of a brown-blonde haired child with stormy grey eyes and a love of climbing and archery.

Clint smiled softly as he pressed his lips gently to Natasha's hairline as not to wake her. The archer found comfort in being able to hold his partner close, knowing she was safe in his arms and protecting her from her own nightmares.

Following his lover's request, Clint set the alarm for three hours later and then proceeded to fall asleep, finding comfort and peace so much easier knowing Natasha was safe in his arms...


	3. Trust

Clint smiled as Natasha slowly began to wake up, the archer's grey eyes locked on the red haired beauty. He stroked her back gently with his left hand, waiting for her to fully wake up. He knew that she was seconds away from full consciousness when he felt her long eyelashes flutter against his chest. He had already stilled all of his body except his hand when he first woke up, finding both of Natasha's hands placed over his heart. It was as if the red-head was taking comfort from physical contact of feeling his heart beating steadily under the palm of his hands. And it was that thought that stopped him from moving his partner's silk soft hands, despite her job, from his chest. And brought back old - but happier - memories from his childhood...

* * *

 

_A three year old Clint looked on in awe as he watched his mother gently wrap a bandage and splint around the little bird's broken wing._

_"Mommy, will the birdie be okay?"_

_"Yes my Little Hawk, the birdie is going to be okay. He just needs a little bit of help," Edith replied, smiling at her youngest son._

_"Okay," the three year old agreed, watching the young Red-shouldered hawk with awe. "Can we keeps him?" he asked, looking up at his mother with puppy dog eyes._

_Edith smiled sadly and shook her head. "No my Little Hawk. This hawk has to go back to his mommy," the brown-blonde haired woman explained, chuckling slightly when Clint pouted sadly at her. "But he can stay until his wing heals," she appeased, grinning when her baby boy's eyes lit up; he was always finding some poor injured bird and bringing it home for his mother to nurse back to help. And the poor birds often happened to be some of the baby native Iowa hawks such as Red-shouldered Hawk, Broad-winged Hawk and the Red-tailed Hawk. It was one of the reasons she called her three year old son her 'Little Hawk'._

_"I goes make him a nest to sleep ins," Clint exclaimed as he climbed down from his chair, rushing to find some twigs outside to make said nest._

_Clint grinned as he ran to Barney, who was picking up some kindle to be used in the fire. "Barney! Barney!" he shouted as he came closer to his big brother._

_"Yeah Clint?" Barney asked, turning to look at his little brother._

_"Yous help me finds some twigs for 'de littles birdie?" Clint asked as he stopped beside his nine year old brother._

_"I will just let me bring these pieces of kindle into Mom, okay?" Barney answered, smiling at the look of delight on his brother's face._

_"Yay!" Clint exclaimed, taking two, three pieces of kindle to help his brother to bring in wood to the woman who kept the heart of their home beating..._

* * *

Natasha stilled quickly as she finally woke up, surprised to find both her hands resting over Clint's beating heart. What was equally surprising was the fact that the archer hadn't moved them himself when he woke up.

Gently, Natasha moved her hands to Clint's biceps and raised her head, smiling sleepily when she found her partner gazing at her softly. "Hi," she whispered, smiling at him tenderly.

"Hey," Clint replied, returning her smile. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, his hand never ceasing its comforting stroking.

"Mmmm. Definitely," Natasha whispered, biting her bottom lip unconsciously.

Clint growled and used his right hand to tug Natasha's lip from between her teeth. "Don't bite your lip Nat. And don't pout," he instructed, making his partner gasp before smirking as she realised what both of her actions caused the archer.

"Yes sir," she whispered, grinning as she leaned forward and pressing her lips against Clint's gently.

Clint smiled against Natasha's lips, wrapping his arms possessively and protectively around her waist. The archer's actions resulted in the red-head moaning and giving him access to her mouth. As well as allowing her to feel him beginning to harden inside her again, as a result of neither of them removing his member from inside her.

Suddenly, Clint broke the kiss, the two panting heavily. "We need a shower. Two hours until our meeting," he whispered as an explanation.

Natasha could only nod in response, still panting from their kiss. Slowly, Clint lifted Natasha off of his lap, making both of them whine as he slipped out of her.

"Fuck," she whispered as she climbed off of him, watching him out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was okay.

"Ditto," Clint agreed, taking her hand in his and leading her to the bathroom. The archer turned on the shower, without dropping Natasha's hand and pulled her to him once he was satisfied with the heat.

Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint's lower back as the two allowed the hot water to spill over their bodies. She also took comfort from the fact that her lover seemed to be okay with slight contact from her on his chest.

"I want to wash you," Clint murmured into Natasha's hair, smiling at her when she raised her head to look at him.

"Wash me?" she whispered, smirking at him as she saw his eyes light up.

"Yes. Please," he replied with a grin.

"Okay," she grinned, stepping back slightly to allow her partner to begin his request.

"Turn around," he ordered, smiling as the red haired beauty did as she was total, turning and presenting him with her back.

The archer took the shampoo his partner handed him. He deposited a plenty amount of it in his hands before beginning to massage it into the red-head's scalp.

Natasha moaned as she leaned backwards to allow her partner move his hands in her hair. "You like that?" Clint whispered in her ear.

She smiled and hummed in approval. "Yes. You're very good with your hands Baron," she whispered, teasingly using his name.

"Oh, so just one night and it’s Barton again. Thanks Nat. Thank you so much," he retorted sarcastically, although grinning as Natasha stepped back so she was against him.

"Well, I could use other names... But I'm not in that mood yet," she replied, grinning as Clint took the shower head and washed the shampoo from her hair.

"And what mood do you need for nice names?" he whispered, pushing some of her hair aside so he could nibble on her earlobe teasingly.

"I think you know, sir," she replied, biting her lip in pleasure as he played with her earlobe.

"Yeah, you're right. Put your hands against the shower wall," Clint ordered while grabbing one of the shower gels. "Now be a good girl and do as you're told."

Natasha smirked as she did as she was told. "Yes, sir," she whispered, resting her hands flat against the wall.

Slowly, Clint squirted some of the gel on his hands before beginning to massage Natasha's pale back. The archer couldn't help his grin as the added hot water created suds on her back.

The twenty-seven-year-old continued to massage and wash the twenty-one-year-old's body. Slowly, he made his way to her front. Firmly, he massaged her breasts, teasing her nipples to the point where they were rock hard pebbles under his callous covered fingers.

"Oh God... Clint," Natasha moaned, gasping as Clint slid one hand down down to her cunt. Then he spread her folds, gliding two fingers over her clit.

"You're so wet... is that all for me Baby?" Clint whispered as he slid two fingers into her cunt, sliding them against her G-spot.

"Yes. Yours. All yours," she moaned, gasping her pleasure as Clint moved his fingers inside her.

"Should I let you come like this?" he whispered in her ear, slowly crooking his fingers against Natasha's sweet spot.

"Please... Clint," Natasha begged, clenching her hands against the wall of the shower as he thrusted his fingers deeper inside her cunt.

"That's it Baby. Tell me how you want it," Clint encouraged, pushing his palm firmly against her clit as he moved his fingers.

"Let me come... please... Clint," she begged, tossing her head back against his shoulder. "Clint."

"Come for me Nat... Squeeze and cover my fingers as you come Baby," Clint ordered seductively into his lover's ear, nibbling on her earlobe teasingly.

"Clint!" she screamed as she came hard, Clint's words only adding to her orgasm. The red-head's walls squeezed his fingers hard as she covered his hand with her juices. She collapsed backwards against her lover, panting heavily as she came down from her high.

Clint smiled softly as he continued to move his fingers inside Natasha, gently bringing her down from her orgasm. He gently pressed his lips to the back of her head before slowly pulling his fingers out, smirking when she whined at the loss.

"You like that Baby?" Clint asked as he sucked his fingers clean, groaning his approval.

"Yes," she breathed as she turned her head to lock eyes with him. "Promise me you won't call me 'Baby' at work," she requested, watching him carefully. "The _Black Widow_ is only a mask I wear... behind closed doors, I'm your Nat... I don't want to compromise our partnership," she added as an explanation, making Clint visibly relax.

"You're stuck with me Nat... Nothing will compromise our partnership... we just have another reason to come back home safe," Clint whispered before pecking her lips gently. "You agree?"

Natasha smiled against his lips and nodded. "Yes," she whispered as she deepened the kiss. "Want you," she whispered, bringing one hand up, careful not to touch Clint on his chest or shoulders.

The archer grinned before suddenly turning his spy so her back was against the wall. He easily controlled their hungry kiss, placing his hands possessively on her ass. Then he lifted her up and help her to wrap her legs around his waist, pressing his erection firmly against her cunt.

"You. Belong. To. Me," he growled before sliding inside her, making the two gasp in pleasure as he filled her.

"Yes. Yours," Natasha moaned, placing her hands in her lover's hair. She gasped as he slowly pulled out of her before slamming back inside her, making her cry out in pleasure as he begun a quick but steady rhythm.

Clint claimed Natasha's lips hungrily as he drove his cock deeper inside her cunt. The red-head moaned her approval, tightening her fingers around the short strands of his hair. With each thrust, he hit all the right spots inside her. Within minutes they were both seeing stars.

"Want. You. To. Come. For. Me," he muttered into her mouth, bringing one hand to her hair, burying it in the long red locks.

Natasha responded by screaming his name out in pleasure in his mouth as she came around her lover's cock. Her pulsing cunt around his rock hard cock, pulled Clint over the edge. He shouted her name into her mouth as he spilled inside her.

The two kissed softly under the spray of the shower, holding each other as they traded loving kisses while coming down from the highs.

Gently, Clint pulled out of Natasha while they were still kissing, making her whine at his actions. "That okay?" he whispered as he slowly pulled away.

"Yes," Natasha whispered, smiling at him shyly, biting her bottom lip.

"Don't bite your lip," Clint whispered as he tugged her lip free.

"Yes sir," she whispered before stepping up on her toes and gently kissing her lover.

"Come on. Let's get something to eat before we go to base," he stated, turning off the shower before getting out. He took out two towels for Natasha before grabbing one for himself. After wrapping his towel around his waist, Clint held her larger one for her to step into.

Natasha smiled as she allowed Clint to dry her body, watching her partner take care of her. Then a thought struck her.

"You know I trust you, right?" she asked, making Clint pause I surprise at her question.

"Yes. Now. Until yesterday, I thought you didn't trust me fully. But now I know otherwise," he replied, taking the smaller towel and using it to dry her hair.

Natasha took Clint's face in her hands, making him look her in the eye. "I've trusted you since you rejected my advances at the hotel in Moscow, Clint," she confessed.

Clint's jaw dropped slightly at her confession. "You've trusted me since then...?" he whispered, placing his hands on her hips protectively.

Natasha nodded, smiling at the look of pride and happiness on her partner's face. "Yes. You showed that you considered me a person not an object for your pleasure. And I knew I could trust you."

Clint smiled and pressed his lips to hers lovingly. "And I trust you Nat."

The two kissed softly with Natasha wrapping her arms around Clint's neck while the archer wrapped his around his spy's waist.

"We need food," Natasha mumbled against Clint's lips, the red-head unable to stop the smile on her face.

"Mmmm... you can cook... I've some of your spare clothes from the last time you stayed over," Clint replied, too busy in their kiss to do anything else.

"Okay," she whispered, letting herself get lost in their kiss...

Clint smiled as he watched Natasha cook them some pancakes while wearing one of his T-shirts. They were both content in the otherwise silence, the archer watching his lover like the hawk he is. Suddenly, the twenty-seven-year-old remembered an old memory from his childhood. And not a good one...

* * *

_Clint grinned as he watched his mother place the pancakes in front of Barney and him. The two brothers thanked their mother before digging into their breakfast._

_Edith smiled sadly as she watched her sons eat their breakfast, knowing that this quiet time would soon be broken by her abusive alcoholic husband returning from a night long session._

_Suddenly there was a loud banging of the opening and closing of the front door. Edith signalled to her boys to be quiet, which they immediately did so. They both knew why their mother had done so._

_"Wench... Get your fucking ass to the bedroom. Now. Your husband's home!" Harold shouted as he entered the kitchen. "You little shits better be outside by the time I get back. D'ya here?" he slurred before grabbing Edith roughly by the arm, ripping her top in his haste. "No you bitch, you're gonna do your wifely duty."_

_Barney made a move to attack his father but was stopped by his mother's warning glance which meant; don't get yourself attacked and look after your six year old brother. He clenched his hands as he watched his mother get dragged by his father to there bedroom._

_And then her screams rang through the house as Barney dragged his little brother out to their treehouse away from the pain they heard..._

* * *

 

"Clint," Natasha called, quickly turning off the pan and walking over to her shaking partner. "Clint," she called again but again was met with the shaking and a blank stare from the archer.

Slowly, Natasha walked over and placed one hand on Clint's cheek and her other one on his left shoulder. "Clint. Relax. You're here, safe. Your dad's dead. He can't hurt you," she tried. She needed to get him back. Now. "It's me. It's Nat."

Not as quickly as she would have liked, Clint slowly began to relax. His breathing slowed down back to normal. His heart rate slowed under her hand. His eyes lost the blank stare.

"Nat?" Clint whispered, his eyes pleading with her to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

"I'm here Clint. I'm here, not going anywhere," Natasha replied, allowing her partner to pull her into his arms. "I'm here. It's okay. You're safe," she reassured.

Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist while he buried his face in her hair. "Please don't leave me Nat. Please," he whispered into her red locks.

"I'm not going anywhere Clint. You're stuck with me," she replied, gently stroking his hair soothingly.

The two stayed like that for a while, just comforting each other. And in Natasha's case, reassuring her partner that he was not his abusive father and never would be. Suddenly, Clint made a suggestion that surprised Natasha.

"I want you to touch my shoulders blades," he whispered.

"What?" she exclaimed, pulling back slightly to look at her partner. "Clint, you hate it when anyone touches your shoulders. Or your chest."

Clint looked at her wide eyed. "I know. But I trust you. My Haphephobia can fuck off when it comes to you."

"I don't want to hurt you Clint," Natasha whispered as she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"You won't. I want you to touch me. I'm not ready for you to touch my chest but I _need_ you to touch me."

Natasha took a deep breath before doing as she was told. She gently placed both hands on Clint's shoulder blades, keeping her eyes on his, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear.

Clint pulled Natasha closer, needing to feel her close. The red-head leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, the two sharing the same air.

"I trust you," he whispered, closing his eyes and taking comfort in his lover's touch.

"I trust you too," Natasha whispered, and damn if that wasn't as power as a confession of love - well, she'd save that thought for later...


	4. STRIKE Team Delta vs False Rumours

Clint smirked as he watched Natasha tap her foot impatiently as they listened to Fury give the top twenty four S.T.R.I.K.E teams, all from Alpha to Omega, a lecture on not breaking any more rules and protocols. The red-head could listen to the Director give them a lecture but not when it was all the two-men teams all stuck in the same room.

"You okay?" he whispered, low enough for only his partner to hear.

"I'm just peachy," she replied, keeping her eyes glued to the screen where Fury had most of his lecture on.

' _I can help_ ,' Clint signed cheekily, earning a slightly amused raised eyebrow from the red-head.

' _Not here,_ ' she replied, rolling her eyes at the archer.

' _Did you just roll your eyes at me? That deserves punishment Natasha._ '

' _Maybe I want to be punished. Master._ '

This time, it was Clint's turn to raise an eyebrow at his partner. He caught a glimpse of his ex-girlfriend, Bobbi Morse, glaring daggers at his red haired partner. ' _Your best friend wants your attention,_ ' he signed, making Natasha raise an eyebrow before noticing his mentioned ex glaring at her.

"You really need normal exes," she whispered under her breath, making sure no one could hear her.

"Thank God you don't have an ex on base then," Clint replied at the same level.

"Well then you'd probably know how I feel," Natasha hissed, catching Fury's attention.

"Romanoff! Barton! Is there something wrong that you feel the need to interrupt me?" he barked, glaring at the two agents.

"Sir, we just find this pointless since you gave us this exact same lecture yesterday for five hours. I, personally, think that Agent Romanoff and I could have our mission reports done and handed to Agent Coulson during the time you've finished this lecture," Clint replied easily, earning dropped jaws from most of the group at his simple tone.

"And Barton, why did I have to give you and Agent Romanoff a five hour lecture about breaking protocols in the first place?"

"In all due respect, sir, Agent Romanoff and I got the job done. With no civilian casualties. So why are you complaining?" Now that raised eyebrows from everyone in the room.

Fury glared at the archer before raising an eyebrow at the red-head beside him. "Do you feel the same way Agent Romanoff?"

"Yes, sir, I have the same thoughts about this topic as Agent Barton. If we get the job done with no civilian casualties - especially no fatalities - I do not see the problem. And, by my recollection, Agent Barton and I only broke two protocols because of our target bugging our rooms and car as well as poor Intel."

"The two of you get out before I decide to shoot both of you. And get your reports to Coulson ASAP," Fury stated, rubbing his forehead before turning to the remaining twenty three teams and continuing his lecture about breaking protocols.

"Sir, you realise that Barton and Romanoff only wanted to get out to bone each other," an agent stated as Clint and Natasha left, earning deadly glares from the two agents.

"Agent Reynolds, we're professionals. Unlike you, we have control over ourselves and don't _bone_ everyone we work with," Clint replied before slamming the door as he and Natasha exited the room. Everyone turned to look at the affronted agent who was glaring holes into the door where S.T.R.I.K.E. Team Delta had exited. Yeah, Barton knew how to make people get pissed off.

* * *

"That's the idiot that Morse cheated on you with, right?" Natasha asked as they arrived at their joint office.

"Yeah. And ever since I brought you in, he's claimed that you slept with me to get into S.H.I.E.L.D." Clint replied as he sat down at his desk, his head in his hands.

Natasha walked over and hoisted herself onto his desk, placing a comforting hand on Clint's shoulder, gently rubbing her thumb against his shoulder blade. "Well, Fury, Hill, Coulson, you and I all know the truth Clint. Everyone else can think what they like. They weren't there in Moscow. They didn't read the report and they didn't see our interrogations. They don't know. But we do."

"When did you get so smart?" he whispered, raising his head and looking at his partner.

"Sometime after realising that Fury, Hill and Coulson trusted your decision and placed you as my S.O.," she replied with a nonchalant shrug but her partner saw pass it.

"Did you learn anything valuable during the six months as my student?"

"Yes. There's this american moron archer I know. He showed me that not everyone out there expects something in return for their help. That they just do what they do because they want to. Not because it's a job or a debt."

"Seems like this american moron archer is pretty smart and nice."

Natasha smirked and shrugged, her smirk growing with her next comment. "He has his moments."

"He has his moments?" Clint asked with exasperation. "Moments? Gee, thanks Nat. I didn't know I was so cheap."

"You haven't asked me what I think of my best friend yet?" she interrupted, smirking as Clint's eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh... And what about your best friend?" he whispered hoarsely, feeling a strange tightening in his chest as he spoke.

Natasha smiled as she leaned forward until their foreheads were almost touching. "He gave me back my life when he made a different call in the snowy streets of Moscow. Despite what he read in my file, despite my kill count, he looked me in the eye and made his own call. No matter the consequence. And he didn't want anything in return for it. And that's why he's the best thing that's happened to me," she confessed, her deep green eyes locked with Clint's stormy grey ones.

Clint smiled widely in response. "And you're the best thing that's happened to me too, Nat. No exceptions," he whispered before pulling her into a tight embrace.

She smiled as she returned his hug, gently and carefully resting her hands on his shoulder blades.

"You know my haphephobia doesn't effect me when you touch me. And I don't have as much problems with parasomnia, insomnia or dyssomnia when you're with me," Clint murmured against Natasha's neck.

Natasha smiled sadly at Clint's words, knowing exactly what - or rather, who - had caused her partner his pains. "And I will gladly keep helping you through them. Everyday," she whispered, bringing one hand to brush her fingers through his hair lovingly.

"Thank you."

"Come on. _You_ need to get this report done. I've mine already done and handed to Coulson," she stated as she slowly pulled away from the archer who was pouting at her. And there was no way she did not find that sexy. No, not at all. "Don't pout," she whispered.

"Why?" Clint whispered, watching her carefully.

"Because it has the effect on me as I do on you, doing this," she replied, biting her bottom lip purposely.

"Oh," he grinned before pouting again, earning a gentle slap on the arm.

"Don't. The sooner _you_ get that report done, the sooner _we_ can leave," she stated as she slid off the desk. Leaning down, she pecked his lips softly. "I'll be at the shooting range. Laters... _baby_ ," she whispered, pecking his lips once more before standing up and leaving, putting an extra sway to her hips knowing Clint was watching her.

"Teasing minx," Clint murmured fondly under his breath as he watched her leave before turning to his report, wanting to get it done as quickly as possible.

* * *

Natasha was just about to begin her fifth round of target practice when she sensed another presence in the room. And it wasn't her partner.

"Hey Nat," Agent Steven Reynolds greeted as he stepped near the red haired assassin.

"Reynolds, what do you want?" Natasha asked coolly, turning around and glaring at the agent.

Reynolds swaggered his way towards Natasha with a smug look on his face. "What's wrong Baby? Don't ya wanna have a good time?"

Natasha went rigid before schooling herself to relax. "Not with you, Agent."

"Well that's too bad, because I'm gonna show you a good time. And you are going to do as you're told, you little slut."

Reynolds' words made Natasha's whole body freeze up at the involuntary memory replay of what happened to her in the Red Room...

* * *

_A young Natalia whimpered as her trainers came closer. They were holding ropes. They always had ropes. And whips. And canes._

_"Now Natalia, we're very disappointed in you," Ivan sneered in his usual slurred Russian, grabbing the teenager's hair. "You're going to be a good little bitch now and do everything we tell you."_

_"But sir, I got the mission complete. The marks dead," Natalia whimpered, trying to get free. But Ivan only held on tighter._

_Suddenly, the youngest of the trainers slapped her across the face."Shut up slut. Do as you're fucking told."_

_Natalia whimpered and cried as her trainers began to abuse her in one of the worst ways..._

* * *

Natasha was suddenly broken out of her flashback by the sudden appearance of her partner. The archer grabbed Reynolds just as the older agent was about to place his hand on the red-head and flung him over the bench with a satisfying crack. Clint's eyes flashed towards Natasha and once she nodded she was back in reality he leaped over the bench, proceeding to attack the agent.

Natasha could only watch as Clint began to beat Reynolds to a pulp. She had seen this side of him before - when a mark got a lucky shot off that caught her in her left shoulder. Once he was made aware that she would live, the archer went on a hunt for the mark. He beat him to the brink of death before finally putting him out of his misery with an arrow between his eyes.

Clint did not hold back as he punched, kicked and broke several of Reynolds' bones. The archer was livid. The minute he walked into the range, he had seen the look of disgust, nostalgia and fear in his partner's eyes. And he had swore a personal promise that he would never - NEVER - let Natasha be forced into a position similar to that of the Red Room.

Suddenly, Coulson ran into the range, his eyes wide as he took in the scene in front of him. Natasha was shaking - something she only did when she was reminded of her punishments in the Red Room - and Clint was beating Agent Reynolds to a bloody pulp. Slowly, he walked over to Natasha who nodded the answer to his unspoken question; yes, she was physically okay.

"Barton! Barton! Stop! You're going to kill him!" Phil shouted, trying to stop the archer but his shouts fell on deaf ears. He tried again and again but there was no use.

"Clint, stop! Please! Clint!" Natasha screamed, immediately stopping the archer mid punch. He looked up to find tears streaming down his partner's face - Natasha Romanoff, the _Black Widow_ was crying. Because he lost control. The ever patient Clint Barton lost control.

Clint dropped Reynolds to the ground and quickly made his way over to Natasha, climbing over the bench and taking the red-head in his arms. "Shit. Nat, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. I'm here. I'm here, I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear as he used one hand to stroke her hair while his other one held her close. Her arms immediately wrapped around his waist, holding him close to her body.

"You were so cold. I didn't know if it was you or your _Hawkeye_ façade," Natasha eventually replied when her tears stopped. But she still held him close, knowing she was safe in his arms.

"He made you remember what happened to you in the Red Room. And he was going to hurt you. And I can't let you get hurt. I can't lose you," he whispered into her ear.

Natasha nodded softly. "Please, don't do that in front of me again," she whispered; the red-head didn't think she'd ever get that image of Clint's eyes out of her mind. The rage and pure malice of intending to kill. Because somebody tried to hurt her.

"Okay. I'll make it up to you later," he whispered before turning his head to look at their handler. "Sorry Phil. He... he was trying to use Nat... I just lost it," he confessed, continuing to hold his partner close.

"I kinda guessed that because of Natasha still shaking when I entered the range. I got both of your reports. Go home. The cameras were turned off by Reynolds - we caught that. So we know he had unjust plans. He'll be charged with intentions of rape and sexual assault," Coulson listed, looking at the two agents in his care. "Barton, I'll make sure you don't get punished for this. You did what any of us would do; you protected your partner."

Clint and Natasha both nodded their thanks before leaving. "Let's get you home," Clint whispered. He had to make it up to his lover for the fear he caused her.

* * *

"I owe you Nat. Today, I didn't mean to sc-...," Clint began as he pinned her tenderly to her apartment door.

Natasha smirked and cocked her head to the side. "Then I better invite you inside. Sir." Her smart ass interruption resulted in her mouth being captured hungrily by her lover.

The couple moaned in mutual desire as the archer pressed himself closer to his spy. "Door. Now," he murmured against her lips. Natasha grinned as she handed him the keys and let him unlock the door.

"I'm going to make it up to you Nat..."


	5. Revelations - Part 1

_"I owe you Nat. Today, I didn't mean to sc-...," Clint began as he pinned her tenderly to her apartment door._

_Natasha smirked and cocked her head to the side. "Then I better invite you inside. Sir." Her smart ass interruption resulted in her mouth being captured hungrily by her lover._

_The couple moaned in mutual desire as the archer pressed himself closer to his spy. "Door. Now," he murmured against her lips. Natasha grinned as she handed him the keys and let him unlock the door._

_"I'm going to make it up to you Nat..."_

Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint's neck, pulling him closer as they stumbled back into her apartment. The archer dropped the keys as he kicked the door shut, his hands going straight to his partner's ass before moving to her thighs. He easily hoisted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

The red-head brought her hands to cup Clint's face, deepening the kiss as he walked them to the kitchen. "Do you have any ice-cream?" Clint murmured into her mouth.

"Mmmm... yes," she replied but was too busy in their make-out session to really pay attention to her partner's question.

Clint broke the kiss when the need for air became too much. He rested his forehead against hers, both breathing heavily. "Ice-cream?" he asked again, gently pecking chaste, loving kisses to Natasha's mouth.

"In the oven," Natasha whispered sarcastically, smirking when Clint pouted at her.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Miss Romanova" he stated in Russian as he walked over to the fridge. But he didn't let Natasha get down.

"Clint," Natasha started as he pressed her up against the fridge-freezer, "you need to let me down. I can get the ice-cream for you."

"Nope. I'm not letting you go," Clint replied, easily opening the freezer and grabbing the carton.

Natasha couldn't help but giggle at Clint's playfulness but also serious determination. She pressed soft kisses along her lover's throat, nibbling as she grinded her hips firmly against his.

"Miss Romanova, you are distracting as ever," he stated, smirking as he noticed Natasha blush in response.

"You sound like I've been distracting you for a long time," she replied, kissing his pulse point softly as he closed the freezer door.

"Babe, you've been the source and focus of every damn fantasy I've had since you came into my life," he whispered before groaning as he felt Natasha's lips suck on his pulse point.

Natasha grinned and moved her head to look at him. "You'll have to demonstrate all these fantasies for me one day," she whispered, biting her bottom lip deliberately.

Clint's eyes rolled back as he growled deeply. " _On_ you _,_ " he stated, opening his eyes and walking to a drawer to get a spoon. "But right now, all I want is," he started, glancing down at the ice-cream in his right hand while his left arm was planted around her waist, "Ben & Jerry's and Natasha."

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, allowing him to claim her mouth once more. "You already have me," she mumbled into his mouth.

Clint continued to kiss her deeply while making his way to Natasha's bedroom with her still in his arms. Once they reached the bedroom, he laid her down on the bed and slowly broke their kiss, smiling at her softly.

Natasha smiled up at Clint as she helped him strip her body from her tight clothing. She bit her lip as her lover kissed and and nibbled on her skin as he took her clothes off. And his hands only added to her pleasure as he massaged hr at the same time. Once she was fully named, Clint climbed back off the bed, surprising her slightly. She watched him as he walked to her in suite and grabbed her bathrobe, taking the belt from it.

"Clint?" she whispered as he climbed back onto the bed. What the fuck was the robe for?

"Relax. I need to stop you from distracting me," he explained, gently taking Natasha's wrists and bringing them to the headboard. "You are very distracting as it is so I don't need your hands distracting me too."

Natasha grinned before biting her lip purposely. "Sorry, sir. I don't mean to be so distracting for you," she apologised innocently.

Clint growled and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to control his lusty thoughts. Once he had enough control, the archer moved to his knees and quickly stripped himself of his top and pants. "You're the definition of distraction, Natasha," he stated before grabbing the tub of ice-cream.

"So I'm not he only one whose been starring at my partner's ass over the past year and a half, sir," she purred, while spreading her legs upon her partner's unspoken command.

"Oh, most definitely not," Clint replied before taking a spoonful of ice-cream and offering it to his red haired lover.

Natasha grinned as she accepted her lover's offering, moaning appreciatively at the cool taste of ice-cream on her tongue.

"Like that?" Clint whispered as he took another spoonful, earning a nod from his lover. "Good, because that's the last you're gonna get."

"What?" Natasha replied, exasperated at Clint's statement.

"I don't like sharing," he said simply, earning a grin from his lover.

"That makes two of us," she responded, gasping as Clint place the spoonful of ice-cream on her sternum, right between her tits. "Oh god. Clint," she moaned, gasping as the archer leaned down and licked the ice-cream from her.

"Yes?" he replied as he proceeded to do the same to both of her nipples.

Natasha couldn't help but moan her pleasure as her lover lapped at her breasts. And to know he wasn't even added the use of his hands yet.

Clint continued his pattern; place ice-cream on different parts of Natasha's body before slowly licking and sucking it off her pale skin. His actions were slow and deliberate. Natasha was squirming in pleasure and when he reached her sex.

Clint slid one finger inside Natasha's cunt as he licked her clit. Then he added another finger. And soon he had her squirming on the edge of an orgasm.

"Oh god. Please. Clint," she begged, pulling hard on the belt around her wrists. She wanted to touch him as he worked her over the edge. To fist her hands in his hair as he moved his mouth and fingers on her cunt.

Clint chuckled against her cunt, making Natasha moan her approval as the added vibrations contributed to her pleasure. The twenty-seven-year-old curled his fingers slightly, hitting her g-spot with ease and it was all that was needed to send the twenty-one-year-old over the edge.

Natasha cried out Clint's name in pleasure as she came hard, her juices covering her lover's face and hand. She collapsed boneless against the mattress, panting heavily. She was so phased out from pleasure that she didn't notice her lover kiss his way back up her body and undo the belt.

Eventually, Natasha regained her motor functions and brought her hands to fist them in Clint's spiky hair. The archer had been nuzzling her neck but she guided him up so they could kiss slowly.

"Oh Barton, you are so getting laid right now," she mumbled into his mouth, making him smile widely in return. They broke the kiss softly as he stripped himself of his boxers with ease.

"What do you want Tasha?" he whispered as he used one hand to teasingly slide the head of his cock along the length of her slit.

"You," Natasha moaned, tilting her hips towards Clint's. But he only brushed the head of his cock teasingly over her clit.

"Now now Tasha, I want you to be specific. How do you want me?" he teased.

Natasha growled hungrily before moaning, "Clint, I want you to put your cock in my cunt and take me. Now."

Clint grinned as he did exactly that. "Your wish is my command," he whispered once he was fully seated inside her cunt.

Natasha threw her head back in pleasure, moaning as she wrapped her legs tightly around Clint's waist. She gasped as Clint leaned down and lapped at her breasts before he slowly began to pull out of her before sliding back in.

He continued his slow pace of long, deep thrusts inside her, teasing his red haired lover. Natasha moaned and begged him to go faster, to go harder, but the Clint kept his pace.

Natasha was literally shivering in pleasure as Clint's length hit every part of her cunt. And he won't speed up.

"Please. Clint. Faster. Please," she begged, pressing her feet hard against his ass. "Clint, please."

Clint grinned as he nipped on Natasha's left breast before moving his head to look at her. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her softly. And then he began to move faster.

Natasha cried out in pleasure when her archer began to move faster inside her. He was hitting all the right spots inside her cunt and she was seeing white stars. She broke the kiss and moaned his name, earning a growl of approval from the twenty-seven-year-old.

"I want you to come for me Natasha. Want to feel your cunt milk my cock," Clint whispered huskily into her ear, grinning when she moaned at his dirty talk. "You like this, don't you? Me talking dirty while I'm taking you?"

"Yes. Oh god, Clint. Yes."

"Come for me Tasha. Milk my cock as you come for me," he ordered.

Natasha tossed her head back and screamed in pleasure as she came hard around Clint's cock. Her body arched off the bed as her walls tightened like a vice around her lover.

Clint buried his face in the crook of Natasha's neck, shouting her name as his seed poured inside her. He thrusted once, twice more before the two collapsed boneless onto the bed, both of them fully sated and happy in each other's presence.

* * *

"Am I forgiven?" Clint whispered as he gently washed the excess ice-cream and the remnants of their pleasure from Natasha's body as she lay boneless on her bed.

"Forgiven?" Natasha whispered, confused at her lover's words.

"For scaring you."

"The way I see it Clint, you reacted like that for a reason. You protected me. You know what happened to me when I was in the Red Room and added to what happened to your mom, you reacted accordingly," she replied, reaching up and pressing her hand to his cheek.

Clint closed his eyes and leaned into his lover's touch. "But the look on your face... Tasha," he started but she placed a finger on his mouth.

"I was scared, yes," she admitted as she interrupted him, "But it was because I didn't know if I could get you back. But I can so there's no need to worry."

Clint smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips to her. Eventually they pulled away and the archer went to get up to put the washcloth back but was stopped when Natasha placed her hand on his wrist. "Drop it on the floor," she whispered, smiling at her lover softly.

Clint returned her smile and did as she suggested before lying down beside her and taking her in his arms. Natasha rested her head over his heart, allowing Clint to hold her close to him. Slowly both fell asleep, sated from their love making and the knowledge that they were safe in each other's arms.

* * *

Clint was abruptly awoken by the sounds of whimpering beside him. The archer quickly opened his eyes to find his partner curled up in a fetal position, whimpering as tears streamed down her face. Gently he pulled her into his arms, rocking her.

"Nat? Wake up Baby. You're having a nightmare. You're safe. You're with me. You're safe," he whispered into her ear as he rocked her gently.

Clint continued to rock Natasha gently, waiting for her unconscious self to calm down so he could wake her up. Eventually, the red haired beauty began to wake up, her body shaking as a result of her nightmare. A telltale sign of what topic her nightmare was about: the Red Room.

"Clint?" Natasha whispered hoarsely against Clint's neck, her hands curled up in between their chests.

"I'm here Nat. You're safe," he whispered, stroking her hair soothingly. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her closer. "I've got you. I'm never letting go."

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath before moving so she could look Clint in the eye. "I know I'm safe with you," she whispered before pecking his lips gently. She rested her forehead against his, taking in the comfort provided by her partner's embrace.

The couple stayed in their embrace for god knows how long, neither saying much. The only sound was their breathing and soft assurances from Clint that Natasha was safe. Then the red-head remembered the face she saw from her memories.

"Clint... Reynolds was one of my trainers in the Red Room..."


	6. Revelations - Part 2

_"Clint... Reynolds was one of my trainers in the Red Room..."_

"What?" Clint asked, his grey eyes blazing as he looked at his lover.

"Reynolds. He was the youngest of the Red Room trainers," Natasha whispered, her whole body shaking as she closed her eyes and shuddered at her memories.

Clint took a deep breath before pulling Natasha closer to him. He placed his chin on her head while she buried her face in the crook of his neck. He was fucking livid. One of the bastards that had hurt his girl was working in S.H.I.E.L.D. Right under the Director's nose.

"I'm not going to let him hurt you Nat. I'll make sure he can never hurt you again," the twenty-seven-year-old whispered into his lover's ear.

Natasha nodded childishly against Clint's neck. She kept her eyes closed as she breathed in his scent, taking comfort in his protectiveness.

"We need to tell Fury and Coulson, Nat," he whispered after a while. The archer was gently stroking her back, providing comfort for his red haired partner.

"Tell them what? That we're fucking?" Natasha asked, raising her head and looking at the archer with wide eyes.

"I had meant your memories about Reynolds but I think that we should at least tell Coulson about us," Clint stated, watching Natasha carefully. "Unless you're embarrassed by me, that is," he added, unsure of why his partner was so frightened of the idea of their handler knowing about them.

"What?" Natasha frowned, noticing the hurt look on her partner's face. She cupped his face and leaned forward, leaning her forehead against Clint's. "Clint, I'm far from embarrassed about us. But I don't want to lose you as my partner. You're my best friend and the only person I truly trust. I don't know what I would do if I lose you."

Clint frowned slightly and moved his hands to copy Natasha's hands. "You're stuck with me Nat. I'm not leaving you," he whispered, rubbing his nose against hers gently.

"Clint, I-..." she started before deciding to just kiss him deeply, putting all of her feeling into the kiss. She wasn't ready to admit her feelings for him. Yet.

Clint groaned into the kiss and pulled her closer, dragging his hands over her perfectly proportionate body. "Need you," he mumbled into her mouth, his chest tightening with emotions at the thought of losing her.

Natasha replied by reaching down and taking his hard cock in her hand. Slowly, she slid the head of his cock along her slit, showing him she was more than ready and willing to take him, before slowly sinking down on him. "You have me," she mumbled, bringing her hands to his hair and kissing him deeper.

Clint brought his hands to Natasha's ass, firmly palming her ass as they stayed as still as possible. They continued to kiss softly, only breaking apart to catch their breath. Slowly, the red-head began to rock her hips with her lover's help. Together they rocked each other over the edge, calling out each other's names...

* * *

Clint looked at Natasha when they heard the knock on the door, signalling that their handler had arrived. They had agreed that it would be a good idea to mention that their relationship had progressed into what it now was. As well as discuss the revelation of Reynold's true identity.

"Ready?" Clint asked as he stood up, watching Natasha carefully. The red-head was wearing his black T-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her face was void of any make-up. And the archer thought he had never seen anything as beautiful as his partner.

Natasha took a deep breath and nodded, watching her man walk to her apartment and opened the door, allowing their handler inside. She nodded at Phil when he entered the living-room, the suit pausing as he took in her appearance. She was wearing Barton's short. If that wasn't a claim enough, said archer made his way over to her and sat down beside her, placing his arm around her waist possessively and protectively.

"Okay, before we even speak about Reynolds, what is going on between you two?" Phil asked, cutting straight to the point. "Are you sleeping together?"

"Phil, we're together. Not just sleeping together but actually together," Clint answered as he pulled Natasha closer to him. "We agreed that, as our handler, you deserved to know."

Phil stayed quiet for a few minutes, silently worrying both of his agents. And then he surprised them. "About fucking time," he stated, smirking at the shocked looks on the assassins' face. "And I've won the pool between Fury, Hill and myself too."

"You three had a bet on us?" Natasha asked, glaring at her handler.

Phil smiled and nodded. "Yup. I bet that you two would get together within two years of your partnership. Fury and Hill bet more than two years. It's only been a year and a half. Therefore I win."

"You are impossible," Clint stated, shaking his head.

"Well, it explains why you beat Reynolds so badly that he won't wake up," Phil replied, making both agents pause in surprise.

"What do you mean _won't wake up?"_ Natasha asked, taking one of Clint's hands in her own.

"Barton beat Reynolds so badly that there was severe swelling in the brain. Reynolds received multiple broken bones including his legs, arms, rib cage, spine and face. There is several organs damaged. His skull is fractured in several places and most likely would never heal," Phil listed, watching his agents carefully.

"So what are you saying? I killed the bastard."

"Basically, yes Barton, that's exactly what you did. Reynolds is brain dead. He has 0.093% chance of surviving his injuries."

Natasha glanced at her partner who had a blank look on his face. Then he looked at her with concerned eyes.

"You okay, Tasha?" he whispered, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

The red-head nodded before turning to Phil. The suit then began to repeat the info S.H.I.E.L.D. had found about Reynolds' real identity.

"Reynolds real name is Stefan Alexandrov. Born the 12th September 1976. He was one of three boys. Attended school with Alexei Shostakov aka _Red Guardian._ Was recruited by Ivan Petrovitch to join the Red Room when he was eighteen. Partnered with Shostakov and _Winter_ Soldier in the training of the _Black Widow_ programme," Phil read, keeping an eye on Natasha as she stood at the window. She was staring out at dark skyline of the city that never sleeps.

Slowly, Clint stood up and walked to Natasha. He placed one hand on her shoulder while wrapping the other around her waist.

Phil watched in amazement as the red-head let her partner pull her back against his chest. He couldn't help but listen to the conversation of the two assassins.

"Nat? Baby?"

"I'm remembering everything. I had thought the Red Room had blocked some of my memories. I was right."

"I'm never going to let them or anyone else do that to you Nat. You have my word."

"I'm scared."

"I've got you Tasha. You're safe. I'll keep you safe."

"You can't always me safe. Solo missions. If I get -..."

Clint caught Natasha's chin and turned her face so she was looking at him. "I will do, to the best of my ability, keep you safe. Until death stops me."

Natasha bit her bottom lip and nodded, resting her face against the crook of his neck. "Clint," she whispered, unable to say three more words.

Clint tightened his arms around Natasha, grounding her to him. He turned and nodded to Phil who was watching them curiously and with concern.

"Guys, I'm gonna leave now. I need to inform Fury of Natasha beginning to regain old memories. And both of your decisions to take a few days off before your next mission. Which is Tuesday," Phil stated as he stood up, noting that the female agent in front of him was more relaxed in her partner's arms.

"Thank you Phil," Clint replied for both he and Natasha, continuing to hold his partner close.

Phil nodded and let himself out, knowing by Natasha's quietness that she needed space and time alone with her partner.

Immediately after the door shut, Natasha turned in Clint's arms, flinging her arms around his neck. She sobbed and shook in his arms, letting out all her emotions in his partner's arms.

Clint continued to hold Natasha close. After a few minutes he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Lying down with her, he held his lover close as she let out all her pent up emotions. And he stayed awake, keeping his eyes on his partner for the rest of the night...


	7. Jealousy

Clint bit the inside of his lip as he watched yet another male agent flirt with his partner. The archer watched his partner raise an unamused eyebrow at the junior agent before turning to finish her conversation with Agent Hill. When the young agent placed his hand on Natasha's shoulder, the red-head quickly shook him off, herself and Maria leaving the bridge.

It had been six months since the incident with Reynolds. Six months of their relationship. During their time off after the incident, the two had spent several days of just Clint and Natasha spending time alone in her apartment - and two in his - testing the red-head's limit for pleasure. But the archer was too angry because of the green-eyed monster called _Jealousy_ to think about how he made her beg for him. Beg for her release as he kept her on edge for ages while she was tied to _his_ bed. No, he wanted to make his mind clear to his partner.

The twenty-seven-year-old made his way to the gym where he and his partner had new recruits to train. He entered the senior agents' locker area just as Natasha shut her locker, turning to look at him with a tender smile. But he wasn't able to return it.

Natasha immediately frowned in concern at her lover. "Clint?" she whispered, stepping closer to her partner who shook his head in reply.

"Not here Romanoff," he muttered, taking Natasha by surprise; he only ever called her by her surname when he was teasing her.

Natasha nodded submissively at her lover, standing closer to him after making sure the locker area was clear and gently pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry if I've upset you," she whispered softly in her mother tongue before leaving the locker room.

Clint sighed and took a deep breath. He hated being angry at her. Especially when she got upset and worried because of it. Because of him. Running one hand through his spiky hair, he quickly grabbed a towel and water bottle from his locker and left the room, following his lover.

Maria was addressing the newbies, giving them the low down on how things worked at S.H.I.E.L.D., how their evaluations would be assessed and to not piss off any senior agents if they valued their lives just as Clint entered the training room. "These agents will be assessing you and giving their recommendations to me. Agent Romanoff," indicating to Natasha beside her, "and Agent Barton" indicating to the archer. "Any questions?"

"Are either of you ladies available?" some hot shot newbie asked, making Natasha and Maria roll their eyes at him while Clint tensed beside Natasha.

"Agent..." Natasha started, raising an unamused eyebrow at the kid.

"Micheal Edwards," he replied smugly, grinning at the two senior agents with a cocky grin.

"Agent Edwards, you see that silver pen you have in your hand which you're supposed to be using to take notes..." Natasha started, earning a nod from the over-confident male rookie. "Yeah? I, personally, could kill you with it in a minimum of twenty seven ways," the ex-Russian stated with a sickly sweet smile, making Edwards gulp nervously, the previous cocky confidence he once had completely gone. "While my partner, Agent Barton, could use you as target practice," Natasha added with a satisfied smirk as she noticed her partner watching her carefully.

Maria noticed the smirk in Natasha's eyes, showing that the red-head was already enjoying scaring the new recruits. "Is that all the questions?" the Assistant Director asked, watching the groups' reactions carefully.

A young man raised his hand hesitantly, making Maria raise an eyebrow. "If this is another question about Agent Romanoff and my personal interests or personal lives, you better be prepared to leave this room immediately," the Assistant Director warned. The agent quickly dropped his hand. "If that's all, Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff will show you a demonstration of two opposite fighting styles before pairing you off." Turning to the two assassins with a smirk, the brunette stated in Russian, "Don't make them spoil their pants before you even begin."

"But that's the fun part," Natasha replied as she took her place on the opposite side of the mat while Clint did the same on the opposite side. The two agents removed their respective jackets to the floor behind them so they were in a black tank top and a black wife beater.

Maria could only shaking her head, knowing that both agents would most likely torment the new agents as they usually did.

"As Agent Hill indicated," Natasha started as she and Clint stepped onto the sparring mats, the two agents turning to face the rookies. "Piss either of us off and you will regret it," she warned. All of the newbies gulped nervously in reply. "Is that understood?" the ex-Russian asked, earning a chorus of nervous 'yes's from the group.

"Whenever you're ready, Barton," Natasha said as she took her fight stance she usually used during their sparring matches.

Clint nodded before suddenly throwing a left hook at her which Natasha easily dodged it, throwing a right uppercut at the archer. The twenty-seven-year-old easily dodged it as they circled each other. He threw a quick left cross at her, the red-head catching his wrist in response, twisting so his arm was in an easy arm lock. He responded with a back kick which the twenty-one-year-old easily dodged but loss her hold on his arm in response.

The two went back to circling each other, quick jabs and hook with kicks being added into the mix every now and again. Suddenly the red-head threw a high reverse roundhouse kick at her lover, catching the archer off guard, allowing Natasha the time and space to slice kick Clint's legs, giving the spy the advantage.

Clint dropped down on one knee before throwing a left swinging kick at Natasha, trying to bring her to ground along side him but the red-head was able skip around his leg. Then she proceeded to run at him, wrapping her dangerously - yet oh so perfectly shaped - thighs around his neck, flipping the archer so he was flat on his back. Within seconds, she had a hidden knife pressed to his throat.

"I... yield," Clint gasped as Natasha continued to keep her thigh choke and knife on him. The red-head smirked down at the archer as she slowly pulled her knife away from his neck.

Suddenly Clint flipped them over, pushing Natasha own face first and pinning her down.

"We need to talk _Baby_ ," Clint whispered in Russian as he slowly released his lover's neck and jumped off of her. The archer waited until his partner was standing beside him before turning to look at the rookies, who were standing in awe at the two assassins' match. "Any questions?" the twenty-seven-year old asked as his lover stood slightly behind him, slightly beside him.

"How about I take on Agent Barton," Edwards asked, making Natasha smirk knowingly as she looked at her lover.

"God fucking help you kid," Natasha muttered in Russian under her breathe so only Clint could hear her, making the archer chuckle slightly at her statement. The red-head had to school her emotions as she noticed most of the female rookies whispering about how sexy Clint was. How muscled his arms were. How they'd loved to have him dominate them in the bedroom. If only she could get half the chance to use their skinny asses to wipe the floor with.

"He's the one that was hitting on you and Maria," Clint stated in his lover's native tongue rather then asked, smirking smugly as Natasha only nodded in reply. She knew that he was still pissed about something. "Okay so, Edwards, let's see what you got," the twenty-seven-year-old stated as he walked back over to the mats as Agent Edwards took his place opposite him but not without checking out Natasha in the process, the archer noted with a pissed feeling.

"You ready kid?" Clint asked as he took a relaxed fighting stance, waiting for the blonde male to make his first move. Edwards threw a right cross which the archer caught easily before he flipped the rookie over his shoulder, flat onto his back, making Edwards groan in pain. Everyone in the training room heard the crack when he landed, signalling either a broken vertebrae or broken ribs. The archer placed his boot on the rookie's neck, digging it so it hurt hard but it wasn't hard enough to collapse his trachea.

"Do you yield?" Clint snarled as he kept the rookie's arm in a straight arm lock.

"Yes," Edwards gasped hoarsely all the while trying to release himself from Hawkeye's hold.

Clint caught Natasha's nervous gaze and let go of the agent, the archer making his way over to the red-head. "Anyone else want to try fighting the _Black Widow_ or _Hawkeye?"_ he asked, turning to look at the group, noting that several of the agents looked nauseated. "You can take a break and prepare for your trial sparring examination. Meet back here at 15.35," he added, smirking slightly as he watched Natasha hold back a snort at his statement.

Once the group had left to head to the cafeteria, Natasha turned to Clint with a worried look. "Clint?" she whispered, watching him carefully.

Suddenly Clint grabbed Natasha's arm and dragged her into a nearby closet. Slamming the door shut, he pinned her to the wall, growling possessively at her. The red-head stilled her body, not knowing how to deal with her lover at the moment.

"Did you plan on getting me jealous today, Nat? Was that your plan?" Clint growled at her, pinning her arms above her head.

"What are you on about?" Natasha replied, a confused look crossing over her face. "Clint, when the fuck did I give you a reason to be jealous all day?"

"Nearly every male agent has been either flirting with you or checking you out. And _you've_ done next to nothing to stop them," he snarled, surprising his red-haired lover.

"Excuse me! _You're_ the one who decided to keep our relationship a secret from everyone but Coulson and Fury. I don't know how any of this is my fault?" Natasha hissed back, fuming at her lover's accusations.

"I don't like sharing. Or the fact that you've done practically nothing to stop them. Practically encouraging them."

"What the fuck Clint? You more than know that I hate being looked at like a piece of meat. I have to deal with it enough on missions, the last thing I need is the same on base. And anyways, it's not like I have five exes literally eye-fucking me every time I walk onto base," Natasha shot back, not bothering to school the hurt she felt.

Clint flinched as if he had been slapped. "What?" he whispered.

"Bobbi Morse, Carol Danvers, Wanda Maximoff, Jessica Drew and Anya Corazon. Five of your exes. All of whom literally eye-fuck you every. Single. Time. You step onto base. So you have some fucking cheek Barton!"

Clint frowned at Natasha's words and the hurt evident in her words and eyes. "Nat, you know that I have nothing to do with them anymore. You have to know that," he whispered.

"I don't know anything anymore. You've literally just accused me of flirting with other men. When my only thoughts and attraction is to you. Do you know how much that hurts?"

"Nat, I-..." he started but was cut off by his lover.

"Save it Barton. I'm sorry that you feel this way. You should know that you needn't be jealous. But you have no right to be angry at me. At least, I don't have my exes drooling over me everyday. Oh yeah, that's because I don't have any!"

"You should've told me that you felt this way. I would've made it clear that I only have eyes for you."

"I shouldn't have had to make it clear, Clint. Your exes practically hate me. I know the rumours going around. That I'm a whore. Your good for nothing else sex toy. That I let you make me your personal whore in exchange for bringing me back to S.H.I.E.L.D. And it's clear to me that sometimes you agree. That's why you were accusing me of doing nothing to stop people flirting with me."

"I do not and will never think of you as a whore or sex toy Natasha. I never have. I thought my actions in Moscow two years ago proved that. You're the best thing that's happened to me Nat. No fucking exceptions. You're my partner. My best friend. The only person I trust to see me at my weakest. You are not a sex toy for my pleasure. For fuck sake, you were raped as a kid. I hate the thought of you being used, let alone using you like that myself. Don't you know how important you are to me?"

"You have a funny way of showing it. Why would you even accuse me of letting the male agents flirt with me when I only have eyes for you?"

"Because I was jealous. Jealous that I can't have you all to myself, twenty-four-seven. Not because I think of you in any derogatory way."

"But why? I have only every let you have me Clint. I've let you tie me up. Take me in various positions. Been tied up, eagle spread, at your complete mercy. Trusted you with my body and mind. Gone down on you even though I am not the biggest fan of blowjobs because of what I was made do when I was gangraped in the Red Room. I've cried in front of you. Let you comfort me after nightmares and fucked up missions involving rape and children. Why would you be jealous of people who mean nothing to me because you mean everything to me?"

"I'm afraid of not being good enough for you Nat. You're six years my junior. You could have anyone you want, why a washed up carnie like me?"

"Because I trust you. With all of me. It seems clear to me that that feeling is not mutual."

"I do trust you Nat. It's them I don't trust. I don't want to lose you."

"Let go of me Clint," she requested dejectedly, knowing it was futile to continue this argument when both her own insecurities and her lover's were the main reasons behind this conversation.

Clint's eyes grew wide in fear. "You want to leave," he accused more than asked, his voice hoarse with insecurities.

Natasha's green eyes immediately went to Clint's grey ones, noting the fear in his eyes. She knew that one of his major insecurities was not being good enough for her. His fear of becoming his father. "No, I'm not leaving. I don't know how many times I have to repeat myself on the fact I'm not leaving you. But I am uncomfortable. My wrists are stiff under your death grip," she replied calmly.

Clint visibly relaxed and gently released her wrists. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered as he massaged her wrists lovingly.

Natasha only watched him as he massaged her wrists. Once he was satisfied that they were no longer stiff, she wrapped her arms around his lower back and resting her face against his chest. The archer immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. "I hate fighting with you," she mumbled softly against his chest.

"I hate fighting with you too Nat," he whispered into her hair, stroking her back lovingly.

Natasha closed her eyes and breathed in her lover's scent. "You know I love you... Right?" she whispered, making Clint pause in surprise. He had thought it would be him that would say those three little words first. But Natasha had a thing for surprising him.

"And I love you too Nat," he whispered, moving his hand to cup her chin, guiding her to look at him. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly.

She sighed against his lips, smiling slightly as he deepened their kiss softly. Gently, she brought her arms up to wrap around his neck while he wrapped his around her waist. The couple continued to slowly make out, taking their time as their tongues danced around each other.

Clint slowly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Natasha's. He brought one hand to gently stroke her cheek, looking at her lovingly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, holding her close with his free arm.

Natasha shook her head gently then pressed her lips to his chastely. "Make it up to me later?" she requested shyly.

"Always."

* * *

Natasha had barely dropped her gym bag to the floor when Clint pinned her to the wall in his hallway. He grabbed her wrists and brought them to the coat hooks above her head while kissing her desperately.

He kissed her deeply, trying to show her just how much she meant to him. And to show her he never wanted her to leave him. He had been so scared when she told him to let go earlier. But was more than relieved when she said she wasn't leaving.

"Clint," she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist while he brought his left hand down to palm her ass possessively. "Bedroom. Want... Need you."

Clint was all to happy to compile to his lover's request. And he had a lot in mind to make it up to her.


	8. All Night Long

_Natasha had barely dropped her gym bag to the floor when Clint pinned her to the wall in his hallway. He grabbed her wrists and brought them to the coat hooks above her head while kissing her desperately._

_He kissed her deeply, trying to show her just how much she meant to him. And to show her he never wanted her to leave him. He had been so scared when she told him to let go earlier. But was more than relieved when she said she wasn't leaving._

_"Clint," she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist while he brought his left hand down to palm her ass possessively. "Bedroom. Want... Need you."_

_Clint was all to happy to compile to his lover's request. And he had a lot in mind to make it up to her._

The archer brought his other hand to Natasha's ass while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He easily carried her to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Gently he laid her down on his bed, only breaking the kiss to rid himself of his shirt and pants.

Natasha bit her bottom lip as she watched her lover throw his shirt and pants to the ground, her eyes trailing over his well trained body. She leaned up on her elbows, smiling as Clint leaned down and kissed her hungrily.

Clint easily brought his hands up and and ripped Natasha's tank top through the middle. Together the couple easily got rid of the ruined fabric. He tugged on her pants, quickly removing them when Natasha raised her hips for him. Once their clothes were discarded, the twenty-seven-year-old year old leaned down and kissed his lover hungrily.

The couple continued to make out hungrily while they groped and dragged their hands over each others' bodies with Natasha making a conscious choice to stay away from her lover's chest. The only time they broke away was to catch their breaths or to make each others' skin with noticeable love bites.

Clint slid his hands under Natasha's back, quickly and easily opened her bra, grinning when she gasped at his easy movements. Once her breasts were free and bare to her archer's eyes, the red-head moaned as he took one of her nipples into his mouth. She couldn't stop her moans of pleasure and approval as he switched his hungry mouth between her tits.

The archer slowly slid down his lover's body, kissing along her smooth pale skin that was marred with scars from her life as a spy and assassin. And he kissed each one lovingly, a silent promise to kill the people who were responsible those scars. Well, those who were lucky to still be alive.

The red-head watched her lover as he laid between her legs, propping himself up on his elbows. He ripped her panties from her body right before he dove into her cunt. Spreading her lower lips, he lapped hungrily at her clit and slit. Eagerly, he speared her entrance with his tongue while using two fingers to rub her clit frantically. He wanted to make her come as many times as she could take.

Clint started humming against Natasha's cunt as he noticed the shaking of her thighs on either side of his head. A telltale sign of her oncoming orgasm. Suddenly he slid two fingers inside her, hooking them slightly. And it was all the red-head needed to climax hard in his mouth.

Natasha panted heavily as her lover lapped up her juices eagerly, most of which were covering his face. Her body shook from the pleasure of her orgasm and the way Clint was going, she was already speeding towards her second.

Suddenly, Clint gently bit on her clit. His actions caused Natasha to spiral into her second orgasm, crying his name out in pleasure.

The ex-Russian collapsed onto the bed, moaning, panting and shaking in pleasure as she regained her bodily function. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find her Hawk leaning on his elbow, gazing at her like she was the most precious thing in his world.

She brought one hand up to his hair before pulling him down to KSS him lovingly. "I love you Clint," she whispered against his lips, smiling happily as he hummed his delight.

"I love you too Tasha," he murmured, slowly rolling them so Natasha was on top. "I love you so much."

Slowly Natasha broke the kiss as she kissed along his jaw, leaving her own marks while making her way down his throat.

Clint moaned as he let Natasha leave her own love marks on his body. These marks he enjoyed. Loved. Suddenly, the red-head moved past his chest, nibbling on his half hidden abs teasingly. "Tash," he moaned as she gripped him through his boxer shorts.

Natasha grinned as she pressed her lips under his bellybutton. She trailed butterfly kisses along his happy trail, keeping her eyes locked on his. Then she reached into his boxers and easily removed his boxers.

"Nat, baby, you don't have to do th-..." Clint started but his partner easily interrupted him mid-sentence.

"Clint, how many times have you gone down on me? How many times have you given me pleasure and expected nothing in return?" she asked, still stroking him firmly.

"That's because I like going down on you Nat. Call me a caveman if you want but I love making you come. I love seeing you squirm in the pleasure _I'm_ giving you," he replied before gasping as Natasha began to gently knead his balls.

"Then you should realise that I want to see the same," Natasha replied, nudging the head of his cock. "You're not forcing me to do it Clint. I want to do it."

Clint chewed on his bottom lip before reluctantly agreeing. Natasha smiled before leaning up and kissing him softly. "Relax Baby. I want to do this for you," she whispered before making her way back down his body.

The twenty-seven-year-old groaned in pleasure when he felt his lover wrap her luscious lips around the head of his cock. He fisted his hands in the fabric of the bedsheets as she sunk her mouth lower on his cock.

Natasha smirked to herself as she watched her lover toss his head back in pleasure as she worked her lips over his cock. She had learned a few months ago that - when she had given him her first blowjob since they started this side of their relationship - it was the first blowjob he had been given in almost four years. None of his past three girlfriends had ever considered returning the favour of oral sex. But the red-head would rather not think about his exes at the moment.

Suddenly Clint pulled Natasha off of him until they were face-to-face. "As much as I love your mouth on my cock, I want to make love to you Baby," he whispered before claiming her lips eagerly.

Natasha nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him flip them over so he was on top. "All yours Clint. You can have me any way you want. Master," she mumbled against his lips, grinning happily before gasping as he slid his cock inside her cunt.

"Yes. Fuck Nat... Want you to -..." he started before decided that his actions were better focused on making Natasha see stars all night long.

"Move. In. With. Me," Clint panted as he stilled himself once more inside Natasha as he allowed her to ride out her fourth orgasm of the night.

Natasha's eyes shot open at Clint's statement, meeting his with utter surprise. "You want me to move in with you?" she breathed, gasping as he slowly began to move inside her again.

"Yes. I want to wake up every day with you in my arms. And to sleep every night, knowing you're safe in my arms," he whispered before gently kissing her lovingly.

"Okay," she murmured against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, thanking whatever God that actually existed that she was no longer in restraints. "Okay, yes. I'll move in with you."

Clint deepened the kiss, grinning happily as he suddenly took Natasha's hands in his, interlacing their fingers lovingly. "I'm gonna make love to you. All night," he whispered into her mouth, making her grin happily against his lips.

"You always do Clint," Natasha replied, wrapping her legs around his waist, removing all space between them. The couple continued to kiss languidly as they continued to meet each other's hips.

"Always will."

Natasha broke their kiss as she felt her sixth orgasm build. Clint was making her see stars. After her fifth orgasm she had thought she wouldn't be able to come again, but her lover told her he didn't agree. And then he started talking dirty in her ear, whispering pure filth into her ear about every fantasy he's had about her. What he was planning to do to her the next time. And when they got time off. The list was endless.

"That's it Baby. You're gonna come again for me, aren't you? You told you couldn't come anymore. But I'm gonna make you come so many times, you'll lose count," Clint whispered seductively into her ear.

"Yes. Clint. Please. I'm yours. Clint."

"Are you going to come again Natasha? Are you going to squeeze my cock with your tight little pussy walls? Yes, that's it Baby. Should I make you come Tasha? Should I let you milk my cock with your tight wet cunt?"

That was all Natasha needed. "Clint!" she screamed as she climaxed hard. Her cunt clenched firmly around the archer's hard cock, her vaginal walls working hard to milk his seed into her womb.

Clint captured her lips hungrily, shouting her name into her mouth as he came. His load came in thick spurts inside her as he gave her two, three more thrusts before he collapsed on top of Natasha. The couple panted heavily as they came down from their highs, basking in each others' presence and pleasure.

"Is there a reason you like ripping my clothes?" Natasha whispered after they had both regained their breathing.

Clint smiled softly as he gently brushed his hand up her arm and over the swell of her right breast. "I don't like anything between us," he confessed honestly.

Natasha bit her bottom lip and brought one hand up to trail through his blondish-brown spiky hair. "You shouldn't be jealous Clint. I only have eyes for you," she whispered as he pressed a kiss to her sternum, right over her beating heart.

Clint raised his head to look at her lovingly. "I can't promise I'll never be jealous again but at least now I know that my feelings for you are mutual," he whispered.

She cupped his face with her other hand, looking straight into his eye. "They've always been mutual," she whispered before gently pressing her lips to his.

Clint smiled into the kiss, suddenly moving and making Natasha gasp as he moved his cock inside her. And she was made aware that he was beginning to harden again. Suddenly the archer broke the kiss. "You know that you are the only one I look at like this? My exes are my past. Not my present or future. They're not like you," he stated, watching her carefully.

Natasha smiled and not her bottom lip subconsciously. "I love you too Clint," she whispered before pulling her man down and beginning their fifth round - or was it there sixth? They could talk about their problems later.


	9. Moving In & Debriefing

Natasha squealed as Clint suddenly picked her up and swung her around in happiness. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling in shared happiness at the fact that she had finally moved all of her belongings from her New York apartment into his. It had been two days since he had asked her to move in with him. And the red-haired beauty could not be happier.

"Love you," Clint mumbled as he pressed his lips to hers firmly, smiling happily against Natasha's mouth.

"Love you too Baby," Natasha returned, surprising her lover with the use of the endearment. She grinned against his lips before slowly pulling away to look him lovingly.

The archer carried the red-haired spy to the kitchen, kissing her face all over: her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, her jawline, her lips and her chin between each step, every kiss a silent sexy promise. Slowly, the red-head moved her left hand to the nape of Clint's neck while her other hand moved his hair.

Clint placed Natasha on the breakfast counter, slowly bringing his hands to the hem of the top she was wearing - which so happened to be his - and tugged it off of her. Once it was off, he dropped it to the ground and removed his own.

The red-head ran her hands along her archer's abs, grinning as he tossed his head back and moaned his approval at her touch. "Tasha," he moaned, unable to stop his body reacting to his lover's amazing touch.

Suddenly, the apartment phone rang, earning groans of frustration and annoyance from the two assassins. Natasha picked up the phone and literally growled into the receiver, "This better be good Coulson."

**_"Obviously I've interrupted something, so I apologise but you two have a mission. Debrief in half an hour."_ **

"Where are we being sent?" Natasha asked as she brought one hand to trail it through Clint's hair. She held back a moan as her lover bit on her neck teasingly while she conversed with their handler.

**_"Paris. I'll give you the rest of the details when you get here."_ **

"Understood. We'll see you there," Natasha replied before she hung up, dropping the phone behind her.

"Fucking cock-blocked by Phillip Coulson," Clint groaned as he rested his head on her shoulder. Then he slowly slid his tongue along her neck.

"I'll make it up to you later," she whispered, moving her head to give him more room to mark her skin.

"Mmmm... I like the sound of going down on you later," he replied, grinning as he bit down on her neck. "May I?"

"My Sir, you may have me any way you want," Natasha whispered, smiling as she felt her lover grin happily against her skin.

"Thank you," Clint whispered as he pulled away and taking Natasha's left hand in his. The red-head watched him carefully as he gently placed her hand on his chest. The archer took a deep breath before proceeding to move to rest his forehead against hers.

"Clint?" she whispered, stilling all her movement.

"I like it when you touch me," he confessed, smiling at her as if he had won the lottery. "You're the exception to my haphephobia."

"Really?" she whispered, surprised by his confession.

Clint nodded happily, pressing his lips to hers. "Yes. You're the only one I've let touch me. Not even any of my exes have touched me like I want and let you," he mumbled against her lips.

Natasha grinned happily against her lover's lips. She was relieved and honoured to know that she was the first person to touch Clint like this. That he trusted her despite his haphephobia. "I love you Clint," she whispered into his mouth.

"I love you too Tasha. So much," he whispered, unable to stop his smile.

"We. Gotta. Stop," she mumbled into his mouth as their lips continued to move together.

"Don't. Wanna," he replied, pulling her closer to him.

Feeling the same, Natasha kept one hand on his chest and brought to other to the nape of his neck. Their tongues danced around each other, Clint's dominating the dance.

Suddenly Clint pulled away from her lips. "Okay we better stop. Otherwise, I'm not going to stop at kissing Baby."

Natasha giggled and pecked his lips before climbing off the counter. "We better get going. Coulson knows he interrupted us. I don't want him thinking we're late for a reason," she stated, squealing in surprise when Clint slapped her ass playfully. "Clint!"

"That's mine," he explained simply, grinning smugly at his lover.

Natasha shook her head and followed her lover so they could get changed into their S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. With minimal touching. Well, for Clint and Natasha's standards.

* * *

"May I ask why you two are ten minutes late?" Phil asked innocently as Natasha and Clint entered his office.

"Traffic was terrible," Clint replied easily as he and Natasha took their seats.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was," the suit mumbled underneath his breath, earning glares from the two assassins. "Okay, I'll shut up. You two have a mission in Paris. Here's your files."

Natasha and Clint took their respective files. Opening them quickly, the two scanned through their aliases, mentally picturing themselves as these characters. And then they read something that had both of them looking at their handler with shocked faces.

"Mr & Mrs Smith - Coulson, we know you set that joke up - are a married couple who enjoy 'kinky fuckery'," Natasha read, raising an eyebrow at the suit. "Mrs Smith, appears as a wife who has control second to no one in her husband's business as his second in command. But when it comes to behind closed doors, Mrs Natalie Smith is the perfect submissive lover to her dominant husband, Mr Oscar Smith."

"Coulson," Clint started but Phil quickly interrupted them.

"Barton, shut up. The reason you two are being assigned to this mission is because you two are in a relationship. And the Council has given its' approval thanks to Director Fury's persuasion. And because you two will have to, most likely, engage in sexual activity with each other. Only. But the French based FBI will be filming your hotel."

Natasha and Clint glanced at each other before turning to Phil. "When do we leave?"

"In twenty minutes."


	10. Unexpected

_"Mr & Mrs Smith are a married couple who enjoy 'kinky fuckery'. Mrs Smith, appears as a wife who has control second to no one in her husband's business as his second-in-command. But when it comes to behind closed doors, Mrs Natalie Smith is the perfect submissive lover to her dominant husband, Mr Oscar Smith."_

Natasha kept replaying the mission brief in her mind as she played with her fake rings while Clint relaxed in the seat beside her. The archer was completely relaxed with one of her hands in his. He was gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, calming her. They were flying commercially - but in first class - suiting their alias of environmental supportive rich folk.

"You okay Honey?" Clint asked, opening one eye to look at the red-head. He smiled at her as he brought her hand to kiss her knuckles gently.

"Not used to other people flying us. I'm fine," Natasha whispered, tightening her grip on his hand. Clint smiled at her reassuringly before leaning over and pressing his lips to hers lovingly.

"I've got your back Nat. Always," he whispered against her lips. She smiled at that, pecking his lips stronger. Just on the right side of appropriate.

* * *

Natasha sighed her contentment as she watched her lover empty their bags into the wardrobe. "Baby, we have dinner at seven," Clint stated as he walked over to the bed where she was reclining.

"Fancy or casual?" Natasha replied, allowing Clint to gently push her down on the bed before climbing on top of her.

Clint smiled as he straddled Natasha's stomach, pinning her beneath his hips. "Semi-casual, Honey. So you have an hour to get ready."

Slowly, the twenty-seven-year-old leaned down and pressed his lips to hers firmly. The red-head moaned her approval at his domination, opening her mouth willingly when he traced her lips with his tongue.

The archer's tongue easily dominated the red-head's as he took her hands in his, interlacing their fingers as he pinned her to the bed. The couple continued in the same position for what felt like hours before finally pulling apart to breathe.

Catching his breath, Clint rested his forehead on Natasha's sternum, listening to her beating heart. Gently, he pressed his lips to the skin showing under her top before climbing off of her. "We need to get ready," he stated, tugging his shirt off and throwing it into the laundry basket beside the walk-in wardrobe.

Natasha nodded her agreement, climbing off of the bed and heading towards the wardrobe. "Do you want me to wear anything specific Baby?" she asked, playing the role of Natalie Smith perfectly.

"How about that little black dress of yours? The one cut off just above your knee?" he replied from the bedroom, easily changing into his black dress shirt and pants.

"The strapless one with the red belt?"

"Yeah, that one. You've those red heels to go with it."

Natasha smirked at the memory of the last time she wore said heels. Tied to the end of their bed, bent over with her legs spread. And Clint tortured her by keeping her on the edge until she begged him to make her his again.

"Anything else my Sir?" she asked as she applied her make-up, light enough to not be too suggestive but also dark enough to be seductive for her lover only. She brushed her hair to settle over her left shoulder, just the way her Hawk liked it.

"I'll think of something Babe."

Natasha smiled at that, stepping into the red heels. Once she had them on, she took her dress and pulled it on. She smirked as the black fabric hugged her curves perfectly for Clint's eyes to notice every detail. Biting her bottom lip, the red-haired beauty walked out of the wardrobe to find her lover reclining on the bed, dressed in all black except for his red tie that was yet to be done. And it made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Natalie, you look stunning," Clint greeted as he got off the bed and walked over to her. Gently, he placed his hand on her cheek and guided her to look him in the eye.

"Can Sir zip me up?" she purred, grinning as she saw his eyes darken in response.

"Please," he murmured hoarsely, grinning smugly as she turned in front of him, presenting him with her porcelain pale back. Pressing his lips to her bare shoulder, Clint ran his fingers along her spine before slowly pulling the zipper up until it reached it's destination between the bottom of Natasha's shoulder blade. "You're beautiful."

"Thanks, Handsome," she purred lovingly as she twisted her head to look at him. "You have us in matching colours," she noted, smirking at him knowingly.

"I want everyone to know you're mine," he explained even though he didn't need to.

"Always yours Baby," she replied simply. Then she began to do his tie for him. "Will you dance with me at dinner?" she murmured as she pressed her lips to his just as she finished doing his tie.

"Of course Baby."

* * *

Natasha smiled as she let Clint guide her across the dancefloor, the archer easily following her lessons a few weeks back when she had taught him several different dance styles. Especially the tango.

"You're getting better at the tango," she whispered as she cocked her head to give him more access to her neck.

"I thought I was already good at the tango."

"At the horizontal tango, more that good. As for the actual dance, you're getting better."

 **"Oi, lovebirds, I _do not_ need to hear the details of your sex life," **Coulson interrupted over the comms. **"Don't you two have something more important to be discussing? Like the mission. And finding the mark."**

Natasha and Clint smirked at the obvious discomfort of their handler. And the red-head decided that they should be allowed to cause him more discomfort. "Baby, how about tonight we give our French neighbours something to think about. I'm thinking about something similar to the last time I wore these red heels."

Clint's smirk grew as he realised his lover's plan. "Mmmm. Definitely. Tying you to the bed and keeping you on edge until you beg me to take you.'

**"Oh for fuck sake guys. Come on. I don't need to hear about your sex life. That's not fair."**

"Baby, did you hear that? Do you hear somebody complaining about our sex life because he doesn't have one."

**"Natasha Romanoff, that was a low blow. That was just low."**

"Honey, I agree. Who has the right to give out to us about discussing how we want to make love when we want?"

**"Barton, don't you start too. I get it that you two want to get back at me for the Mr and Mrs Smith thing but dissing my love life isn't fair."**

"Baby, I could let you take me right now I'm that wet just thinking of the last time I was wearing these heels."

"Mmmm, Babe, if you're not careful I'll leave you on edge all night before taking you."

**"Okay, that's it. Shut the fuck up. I get it. You're only trying to mess with my head. But no need to diss my love life while you're at it."**

"Coulson, fuck off," Clint stated, making Natasha giggle into his neck.

**"I'm going."**

"Thank god for that," Natasha mumbled before freezing as she recognised two people she thought she would never see again. And then she pulled away from Clint and ran out onto the terrace balcony of the hotel.

Clint frowned in concern and quickly followed his lover out onto the terrace, fining her curled up against the far wall.

"Nat, Baby, what's wrong?" he asked as he caught up with his lover, taking her in his arms and holding her close as she shook in his arms.

"... They're here. They've found me."

"Baby, whose found you? Tell me what's wrong?"

"My old trainers. They're here. The Red Room is here."

Clint took Natasha's face in his left hand and guided her to look at him. "I won't let them hurt you Nat. But I need to know which of your trainers are the ones here."

"The main two... Alexei Shostakov and Ivan Petrovitch"


	11. In which Clint comforts Natasha

_"No!" Natalia screamed as Alexei let the whip come lashing down on her bare back. And again. And again. It was her seventh punishment today. And it wasn't near finished._

_"You little bitch!" Can you not follow a single damn order! You were ordered to kill all of the Drakov family! You failed! Again!" Alexei roared, whipping her back harder. "Now you'll take your beating! Then I'm going to fuck you like the little bitch you are!"_

_Natalia whimpered but would not give the red-haired male behind her the pleasure of hearing her scream. Not even when he raped her..._

* * *

Clint froze at Natasha's words, his heart rate quickening as white-hot rage poured through his body. The bastards who hurt his love were in the fucking hotel. He was fuming. No, that was not the right word to describe his mood. His rage.

Natasha took a deep breath before burying her face in the crook of Clint's neck. She was still shaking. She was reliving a memory of both a hard, dark mission and a severely dark punishment. She closed her eyes and let her lover hold her close, taking comfort in the archer's arms.

Suddenly, Clint brought one hand up to his earpiece. "Coulson, come in."

**_"Agent Barton, what's wrong?"_ **

"I want eyes on Alexei Shostakov aka _Red Guardian_ and Ivan Petrovitch. They're in the same hotel we are."

**_"Are you sure? Barton, did they see you?"_ **

"No but Natasha spotted them. No sign of our mark yet. But I can guess that he's working with Petrovitch and Shostakov."

**_"Fuck it! We're on it. How the fuck did the Recon team not notice this?!"_ **

"Coulson, find out who exactly was on that Recon team. I want to know if there's a mole."

Clint's words made Natasha look up at him in surprise. And then she noticed the look in his eyes. It was the same look he had when he beat Reynolds brain dead. "Clint?" she whispered hoarsely.

Clint looked down at Natasha, his eyes immediately softening when he saw the frightened look in his lover's eyes. Because of his rage. The rage targeted at the men who raped and abused her for years. He stroked her face lovingly before pecking her lips tenderly. "I love you, Nat," he whispered softly.

"I love you too, Clint," she whispered, knowing the FBI were only following them in the bedroom.

**_"On it. Fury and Hill have been informed. The only ones you will have contact with the remainder of this mission is Fury, Hill and myself."_ **

"Copy that, Coulson. Natasha and I will contact you if there's any more trouble. Or we find our mark," Clint replied while continuing to hold Natasha close to him. The archer brought his hand down and brushed a few stray strands off Natasha's face. "What's the game plan, Nat?" he whispered, watching his lover carefully.

Natasha's lips formed a thin line as she thought through every plan she had calculated upon receiving the info on their mark. "Find the mark. Confirm whether or not he is working with Petrovitch and Shostakov. Interrogate him. Terminate him," she listed simply, knowing her partner would be able to fill in the gaps.

"Okay," he agreed, smirking at the thoughts running through his head. "What about when we get back to our room?"

Natasha returned his smirk before leaning in and purring in his ear, "Master, I want you to take full control of me. I'm yours."

Clint growled at Natasha's words, knowing the red-head knew the exact right words to start him off. Suddenly, he pulled her body close, moving her so she was straddling him. He placed his hands on her ass possessively, smirking when he watched her eyes darken with desire. "I have a lot of plans for us tonight, Baby."

The red-head smirked at her lover, leaning in and kissing him softly. "Thank you," she whispered, knowing her Hawk would understand what she was referring to.

Clint smiled against her lips, whispering, "Anytime, Baby," in reply.

Suddenly, Coulson returned over the comma. **_"S.T.R.I.K.E. team Delta, you two are not going to believe me when I say this."_**

"What's wrong, Coulson?" Natasha replied, frowning as she noted the worry in their handler's voice.

**_"Müller's date is none other than Yelena Belova. His wife of three years."_ **

Natasha groaned at the name, leaning forward and resting her forehead against Clint's. "This day just keeps getting better," she mumbled sarcastically.

Clint frowned before beginning to stroke her face comfortingly. "Baby?"

**_"Natasha, if you want to pull out of this mission, you can. No one will say anything."_ **

"No. I'll finish this mission. The Red Room doesn't control me anymore," the red-head replied, leaning into Clint's hand.

**_"Understood. Müller and Belova are heading back to their room. Petrovitch and Shostakov have left for now."_ **

Natasha and Clint shared a look before standing up. "We're heading back to our room. We're going to keep cover for now," Clint stated, watching Natasha smirk at his implied statement.

**_"Don't start this again, Barton. I do not need to hear what the two of you have planned."_ **

"No, Phillip. We make it up as we go," Natasha replied instead, making the suit groan in response.

**_"I'm fucking muting the comms when you get into your room."_ **

"We love you too, Uncle Phil," Clint retorted sarcastically.

**_"Go fuck yourselves."_ **

"That's what we plan on doing, Phillip."

**_"I walked myself into that one, didn't I?"_ **

"Yes."

* * *

Natasha smiled as Clint washed her make-up from her face, the two relaxing in the bathroom en-suite. The archer suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. Natasha smiled before gasping as he started sucking on her skin.

"Master," she smirked as she moved her head to the side, allowing him access to her neck.

"Yes, Natalie," he whispered against her skin, moving up her neck.

The red-head only moaned, not knowing what words to use to describe what she wanted.

"Do you want me?" he whispered, as if reading her mind.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"Yeah? Maybe I will let you have me. Maybe not. Depends on if you're a good girl."

Then pulled her off the closed toilet seat, turning her around and pulling her dress zipper down. Natasha smirked as she caught his eyes in the mirror, allowing the dress to fall and pool around her ankles.

Clint grinned when he realised Natasha wasn’t wearing any panties. As well as reminding him that she didn't need to wear a bra because of the bodice of the dress. "Tut tut, Natalie. Such a naughty girl," he whispered in her ear as he trailed one of his hands around so it rested on her mound. "And you're already wet for me, Baby."

Natasha gasped as Clint began to finger her, moving his middle finger ever so slowly inside her. "Oh God," she moaned, tossing her head back against his shoulder. "Please. Master."

Clint grinned, keeping his eyes locked on the image in the mirror. And then a dirty thought came into his mind. Slowly, he pulled his finger from inside her, causing the red-head to whine at the loss. The archer quickly stripped himself of his clothing except for his boxers and tie. He slowly loosened the tie and took it off, then placed it around Natasha's neck instead. The red silk rested in between her firm but soft breasts, making the twenty-seven-year-old smirk at the sight.

"Beautiful," he whispered in her ear, watching her green eyes deepen with pure desire and love.

Natasha bit her bottom lip, waiting for Clint to give her the go-ahead to move. "Leave the heels on," he ordered softly before taking her hand and leading her out to the bedroom. Leading her to the bed, the archer took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Standing in front of him, Natasha watched as Clint leaned forward and pressed his lips to her stomach. The red-head's breath caught in her throat at the sweet gesture. But it was where he kissed her that had her mind reeling.

Before she could voice the various thoughts running through her mind, Clint stood up and moved behind her. "Baby, are you ready for me?" he teased as he slid his hand between her legs, running the tips of his fingers along her slit, feeling just how ready she was for him.

"Fuck. Mmmm. Master," Natasha gasped, forcing herself to moan _master_ instead of _Clint._ She wouldn't compromise their covers by the lack of self-control.

Clint grinned and brought his free hand to cup one of her breasts. "Tut tut, Nat," he poured in her ear as he nibbled playfully on the shell of her ear. "Such a naughty girl. So wet. Is that all for me? Or because of me?"

Natasha took a chance with her next words. Mainly because she had never been truly vocal in their sex life. Well, with the dirty talk aspect. "Yes, Master. I'm so wet for you. I was practically soaking during dinner at the thoughts of you burying your cock deep in my cunt."

Clint growled at her words, grinding his still covered erection against her ass. "I can feel that. You're so naughty and wet. And mine," he whispered into her ear. "Who do you belong to, Natalie?"

"You. I belong to you, Master."

Clint grinned as he pressed his lips to her pulse point. "Do you want foreplay? Or are you ready to take me?"

"Master, please. No more teasing. I need you," she moaned, gasping as he slid two fingers inside her, teasing her.

"Bend over," Clint ordered as he slipped his boxers off. Natasha did as she was told, bracing her hands on the bed. Her breathing deepened at the thoughts of Clint burying himself inside her.

The archer pumped his cock a few times before stepping forward and pressing the head of his cock against her entrance. When she turned her head and smirked at him seductively over her shoulder, he buried himself inside her with one firm stroke.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped as her lover stilled his movements inside her, allowing her to become adjusted to his length.

Clint leaned down and rested his torso on her back, wrapping one arm around her waist while he brought his other hand to rest on the inside of her thigh. "You like this, Baby? Is this what you want? My cock deep in your cunt?"

"Yes! Fuck, Master, yes. I want you. I need to come around you. For you."

"Oh don't worry, Baby. I plan on making you come all night..."

* * *

Clint watched Natasha sleep peacefully in the bed beside him. She had her head pillowed on his chest, one arm throw over his stomach while she had one of her shapely legs in between his.

They had gone several rounds. He'd taken her from behind. Customary missionary. Cowgirl. In the shower. The adjoining living-room. He'd even tied her up. Now that she was finally asleep, sated and exhausted from their activities, the twenty-seven-year-old didn't want to wake her up.

The archer slowly moved from beneath the red-head, making sure not to jostle her in the process.

Once he was free from his lover's sleep embrace, Clint grabbed his boxers from the floor. Putting them on, he walked over to the balcony door, opening it before stepping outside.

His thoughts were all over the place. On one hand, he wanted to get Natasha the fuck away from Paris and even more-so from her old Red Room trainers. And then he'd go after all three and kill them slowly and painfully. On the other hand, he knew that it was important to complete the mission. Sebastian Müller was a notorious German scientist/ Neo-Nazi. If they didn't deal with him, his human trafficking, prostitution ring and drug running would continue.

The archer was so torn because of his own thoughts, he didn't realise his lover had woken up and followed him out onto the balcony. Slowly, she hugged him from behind, resting her hands on his chest lovingly.

"Baby?" she whispered, knowing from his body language that the archer was planning on what to do.

Clint closed his eyes and leaned his head back so it was resting on Natasha's shoulder. "Hi," he whispered, twisting his head to the side to press his lips to her temple lovingly.

"You okay?" she whispered as Clint turned and pulled her into his arms.

"Yeah. Did I wake you up?"

"No. I woke up when I realised you weren't in bed with me. I hadn't felt you get up."

Clint pressed his nose into Natasha's hair. "I want to kill them. I want to find Petrovitch, Shostakov and Belova. Torture them. And then kill them," he confessed as he held her close.

Natasha took a deep breath as she pressed her face against his bare chest. "Please don't tell me you were planning on leaving right now."

Clint frowned, pulling back slightly and cupping Natasha's face. Gently, he pulled her up to look him in the eye. "I'm never. Ever. Leaving you. I made a promise to you. And I have every intention to keep that promise."

Natasha nodded, unable to find the right words. But her partner knew the right actions.

Clint leaned down and kissed her, easily trailing his tongue over her lips. Seeking access. And his lover willingly gave him access.

The archer brought his hands up along Natasha's curves, groaning as he realised that the twenty-one-year-old was wearing his black dress shirt. He slid his hands under the linen and grabbed her ass, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

He slowly carried her back into the bedroom, shutting the door being him. Their lips never parted for any other reason other than to breathe. Their previous rounds earlier on had been what one could consider _rough love-making._ But Clint planned to take this time round very slowly, wanting to show his red-haired lover just how much he loves her.

Laying her down on the bed, Clint stripped himself of his boxers before climbing into the bed with Natasha. Bracing himself on his elbows, keeping his weight off of her, the twenty-seven-year-old slowly stripped his shirt from the ex-Russian.

Natasha watched her lover with parted lips, her eyes noting every move he made. Whatever details had been going on in his mind a few minutes ago were no longer taking president in his mind, only thoughts of her. Of them.

The twenty-seven-year-old leaned down and pressed his lips to her sternum, wet butterfly kisses along her pale skin. Any time he passed one of her scars, the archer pressed longer kisses to them. He was fully intending to draw this out.

Gently, he began to make his way up to Natasha's breasts, pressing his lips along the swell of each mound. And then he wrapped his lips around her right nipple, sucking on it like a hungry infant. Once he decided that it was hard enough, Clint switched to her other nipple, treating it with the same care as its twin.

Natasha moaned softly at Clint's ministrations, bringing one hand up to scrap her nails tenderly over the archer's scalp. Just the way he liked it. The red-head gasped as she felt her lover bring his left hand between her legs, gently running his fingers along her slit, his thumb brushing her clit.

Sliding one finger inside her, Clint grinned as Natasha gasped and moaned at the sensations he was giving her. He kept his thumb brushing her clit in circles, helping to drive her towards his orgasm. Suddenly, Clint claimed her lips hungrily as he added a second, then a third finger inside her. He knew from the telltale shaking of her thighs that she was close to her orgasm. And with her orgasm, often came the cry of his name.

Natasha moaned into Clint's mouth, her whole body shaking from pleasure. They continued to kiss softly as the archer continued to pump his two fingers inside her slowly.

Gently, Clint pulled his fingers out of Natasha only to take his length in his hand and position himself at her entrance. Breaking the kiss, the two caught their breath before the archer buried himself inside her slowly. The couple moaned loudly in pleasure at the twenty-seven-year-old's actions.

Taking her small hands in his much larger ones, Clint interlaced their fingers lovingly as he continued to slid into her. Their lips met languidly as they moved together, coaxing yet another orgasm from the other...

* * *

Clint smiled as he pressed his lips to the crown of Natasha's hair, smiling as she hummed contently against his chest. He almost froze as the red-head began to trace the several burn marks from his father's cigarettes but knowing it was his lover, he quickly relaxed under her touch.

Knowing that her lover was still getting use to her touching his chest and shoulder blades, Natasha remembered a saying she read a while back. Leaning up to look at him, she stroked his face lovingly before pecking his lips tenderly. "Baby, no matter how imperfect your flaws are, you'll always be the perfect person to someone. And you are perfect to me."


	12. Round One-BlackHawk vs the Red Room Pt1

Clint smirked as he watched Natasha yawn and stretch as she fully regained her sleep-relaxed muscles. She was like a cat, purring as he stroked his fingers along the trail of her spine. The red-head was stretched out, basically, on top of him. Her face nestled in the crook of his neck. Her right hand resting over his heart while the other rested on his right hip. Her left leg was drawn up over his right thigh and her right leg was in between his. The archer was content to just lay like that for the remainder of the day, hidden beneath the white hotel sheets with his lover. And it seemed she felt the same way.

"I don't want to get up," the twenty-one-year-old mumbled against her Hawk's chest, her eyes still closed. She was comfortable where she lay. Although, when she thought about it, anywhere was comfortable when she had Clint as her pillow.

"Either do I, Baby," he whispered, turning his head to press his lips to her forehead lovingly. "Good morning," he whispered, smiling as she raised her head and kissed him softly.

"Now it is," she whispered, smiling against his lips. She gasped and moaned as her lover slipped his tongue inside her mouth. Slowly, he rolled them over so he was on top of her, easily dominating their make-out session. The red-head brought her hands to his neck, trailing her fingers through the stray strands she found there.

"Want you, Baby," he mumbled when he broke the kiss, moving his mouth to suck on her pulse point. That always made her putty in his hands,

"You have me," she replied, her body easily relieving its control to her lover. "Yo know you have me," she added, arching her body into his touch.

"You belong to me, Nat," he whispered, moving his hands over her very, _very_ sensitive breasts. As the gleam of his fake wedding ring caught his eye, the archer couldn't help but wish that it was real.

Natasha could only nod in response, her mind too focused on not moaning _Clint._ After the progress they had made over the past two days since she spotted two of her Red Room trainers, the red-head did not want to compromise all their hard work. They had gotten info from several key members of Müller's inner circle, their eyes too focused on Natasha as they spoke to Clint.

Clint suddenly leaned down and took her left nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it playfully. The twenty-seven-year-old spent equal amount of time on each of her nipples. He continued his actions of teasingly running his tongue over each nipple before leisurely scraping his teeth over the erect areolas.

Natasha grabbed on the hairs on the nape of Clint's neck, trying to guide him to where she wanted. But the archer's upper body strength was greater in their current position. He slowly began to make his way down her body, taking each gasp and moans of ' _Oh God'_ and ' _Please, Baby'_ as he went. At each of her scars, he pressed his lips harder against her skin, sucking deep love marks into her skin.

Clint finally made his way to the apex of Natasha's thighs, slowly pushing her legs apart so he had access to the most intimate part of his lover's body. Using his left hand, he trailed his fingers over her clit, smiling as she moaned her approval at his actions.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her lower lips, teasingly sliding his tongue along her slit. His actions earned one of Natasha's hands to his hair, her nails scraping his scalp as she tugged on his hair. Feeling merciful, he pushed two fingers inside her while he attacked her clit with his teeth and lips.

Natasha groaned as she let Clint work her body the way only he knew how. He moved two, now three fingers inside her. "Oh. Fuck!' she moaned when her lover sucked on her clit. Her free hand grabbed onto the sheets, her nails almost tearing through the linen.

Clint grinned as he tugged on her clit with his teeth, making Natasha cry out in pleasure. She was close now. Panting and gasping, she caressed the spot under his right ear in an attempt to make him give her her release.

Sucking on her clit, the archer decided that it was time to stop his teasing. He crooked his fingers against her G-spot. When he saw the quivering in her legs, Clint pulled his lips from her cunt and claimed her lips hungrily. The red-head moaned as she tasted herself on her lover's lips before he moved his fingers against her G-spot, sending her into a powerful orgasm.

Clint swallowed her screams of pleasure as she came all over his hand. Their lips met slowly as he continued to pump his fingers inside her, drawing out her orgasm. Slowly, he broke the kiss, using his teeth to tug on her bottom lip as he pulled away.

"I think you liked that, Baby," he teased, moving his lips to her pulse point, sucking on the skin there teasingly and making her toes curl in pleasure. Running her tongue along her pale neck, he grinned when she shuddered in pleasure in his arms. "Do you want more, Baby?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes. I want you. Please," Natasha almost begged as she trailed one hand over his chest while her other hand cradled his head against her neck. "Please."

Clint grinned and pulled Natasha on top of him. Sitting up against the headboard, he moved them so the red-head was straddling him. She caught his lips in a soft kiss as she lowered herself on top of him, the two moaning in mutual ecstasy as he filled her to the hilt.

"Oh fuck," she moaned against his lips as she slowly began to grind his cock inside her cunt. She groaned as he moved his hands to her ass, helping her get into rhythm. She brought her own hands down, interlacing her fingers with his as they moved.

Clint groaned against Natasha's lips as they moved together. They kissed softly, their tongues meeting in a slow sensual dance. He loved it when they made slow love together, just holding each other with their lips and tongues entangled in a dance.

And as they came together, crying out in pleasure, the archer thought of it as something he planned on including into their lives until the day he died...

* * *

Clint stroked his hand through Natasha's long, wavy red hair as they lay in the bed, recovering their energy. She had her head pillowed on his chest while her arms and legs were in a similar position to that of earlier that morning.

"Mmmm... we need to get up," he whispered, knowing that they had to make their move now if they wanted this mission to go to plan.

"Yeah," Natasha agreed, slowly climbing off of him, taking the sheet with her. She strutted over to the bathroom door and, slowly turning her head to look at him with a seductive smirk, she dropped the towel. "Aren't you going to join me, Master?" she purred. Clint was quickly out of the bed and with his lover in the shower, _not_ getting clean. And they were just a little late to the dining-room.

* * *

Natasha smirked as she let Clint drag her out of the dining-room, playing their cover perfectly. He shoved her up against the wall and attacked her neck hungrily. No one would suspect their next actions.

When she was certain there was no one following them, she tugged on Clint's collar, signalling that they were in the clear. He gently let her down so she could unlock Müller's hotel room. Which she did so easily.

Once they were inside, Natasha found Müller's laptop. She watched her partner check for any cameras or mics. Finding none he headed over to her as she started up the laptop. "I'm going to check out the place and make sure we're not being watched," he informed her, leaning down and pecking her lips softly.

"Be careful out there," she told him, making him smile at her as he pulled away.

"Aren't I always?" Her answering raised eyebrow was all of the answer he needed.

* * *

Natasha smirked as she easily unlocked Müller's computer. The man may be married to the _Pale Little Spider_ but he had a lot to learn about keeping secrets.

"Anything interesting on the laptop?" Clint asked as he re-entered the room, the archer having made sure that they were not being watched.

"Yup. The idiot has everything he does on the hard drive on this. He won't know what hits him when S.H.I.E.L.D. strikes him."

"Knew there was another reason why I love you," he said as he kissed her chastely before making his way to the window.

"It's not just our sex life that keeps you interested so," the red-head teased, smirking when Clint turned to look at her with an affronted face.

"I can't believe you just said that," he stated, walking over to her and kneeling down in front of her. "You know that I'm not with you just for your body, right?"

Natasha smiled and nodded, leaning forward to press her lips against his. "I know. I love you too," she whispered just as the laptop beeped, signalling that all the contents had been copied onto the memory stick.

"Is it just me or did this part of the mission seem a bit too easy?" Clint whispered as he watched Natasha delete all the evidence that she had been on the laptop before she took the memory stick out.

"Not just you," she replied before they both frowned at the sudden noise of somebody opening the main door of the hotel room. Taking his partner's hand in his, the archer led the red-head to the bathroom and shut the door. Seconds later, they heard the voices of none-other-than Yelena Belova and Sebastian Müller.

"Süße, what is the problem?" Müller's voice sounded from the bedroom.

"Мой дорогой муж, you are the fucking problem. I told you to be careful."

"Yelena, what are you on about? Nobody has anything on us. Why are you so worried all of a sudden?"

"That is where you are wrong, Sebastian. Alexei and Ivan found out that your so-called loyal inner circle has been spilling your secrets to none-other-than _the Black Widow_ and _Hawkeye._ Who work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"That is impossible. The only people who my men have been talking to, other than us, is to an Irish-American couple."

"By any chance were their names, Oscar Smith and his wife, Natalie?"

"... Ja..."

"Вы идиот."

"Yelena, what are you doing?"

"What I should've done a long time ago."

A sudden cry began to ring out but was cut short. Clint and Natasha shared a look; Yelena had obviously put an end to her so-called husband.

"Ivan, I've dealt with problem 1. Has Alexei found problems 2 & 3?"

The two assassins waited until they heard Yelena respond, Clint's hand tightening around Natasha's protectively.

"Fuck. How did he lose them? He was supposed to get into the F.B.I.'s room, steal the tapes and find them. How did he mess that up?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at her partner when he smirked beside her. ' _I already got the tapes,_ ' he signed, making the red-head bite her lip to stiffle her laugh.

' _Good idea,_ ' she replied just as they heard Yelena get more frustrated.

"That идиот is gonna fuck up this mission! He's too obsessed with getting Romanova under him again to do anything properly!"

Natasha had to physically stop Clint from moving at Yelena's comment. The archer was already fuming at the thoughts someone thought they could have _his_ Natasha. She frowned at him, silently telling not to do anything. Yet. He raised an eyebrow at her, silently begging her to let him go after the bastards (and the bitch).

' _Later,_ ' she signed as they heard Yelena leave the room.

"I'm gonna fucking kill those fucking little b-..." Clint started ranting but was cut off by Natasha's lips on his. He pulled her closer, trying to deepen the kiss but the red-head knew that they couldn't get carried away.

"Later," she whispered as she pulled away. Clint took a deep breath to calm himself before nodding his agreement. When she saw he was back in control of his emotions, Natasha led him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. There, they found Müller in a pool of his own blood, his throat cut clean open.

"You know, I think they mixed your codename and Belova's codename up," Clint joked, making Natasha raise an eyebrow at him. Smirking, he continued, "You know an actual black widow kills her mate after they've had sex. Or when they decide that their mate is no longer useful. Belova just killed her husband when he became no longer useful. And I'm still alive, being your partner. I just th-..."

Natasha cut him off with a quick, hard punch to the shoulder. "You're hilarious, Barton," she mumbled, shaking her head at her lover.

"What? It's ironic, don't you think?"

"Shut up, Clint," she warned, glaring at her partner halfheartedly. He continued to smirk before turning to look at the corpse of Müller.

"Well this fucks up our plans on interrogating the bastard," the archer stated, making Natasha snort her agreement.

"You don't say? We should head to the car. Petrovitch and Shostakov have made us."

"Let's go."

* * *

They had just gotten to the car when suddenly, bullets began to rain down on them.

"Who the fuck is shooting at us?!" Natasha shouted over the bullets as both she and Clint dived down to avoid being hit.

Clint shook his head, trying to catch a reflection of their attackers. "Don't know! But I can guess!"

Nodding at each other, they took the small break in the attack to return fire in the direction the bullets had come from. "We're gonna be here for a while," the red-head noted to her partner. And she was more than right...

* * *

"Get Coulson on the line!" Natasha shouted over the sound of the bullets as the two kept cover from their attackers.

"An extraction plan?!"

"We never have one, Clint!"

"No, we leave that for Coulson to decide on!"

"No wonder he's always complaining of headaches!"

Clint couldn't help but smirk at that. Raising his hand to his ear, he switched the comm. link to their handler. "Coulson, we have a problem."

**_"Barton, there's always a problem when you're involved."_ **

"This time, it wasn't him."

"Thanks, Nat. I love your support."

**_"Wait, Romanoff, what type of problem is it?"_ **

"Petrovitch and Shostakov made us. Belova slit Müller's throat before we could get to him."

**_"Shit. Now, yes, that is what I would call a problem."_ **

"Problem? That's a fucking understatement, Coulson."

**_"Barton, I know that. You know that. Romanoff knows that. Do you feel better now that you've stated the obvious?"_ **

Natasha raised an eyebrow and shook her head; no need to use valuable time arguing with their handler. "Any ideas? They've already rained four rounds of automatic bullets on us."

**_"See? This is why I have a problem against you two going into missions without an extraction plan."_ **

"Where's the fun in an extraction plan?" she quipped, making her partner chuckle beside her.

**_"You two are going to be the death of me..."_ **

Suddenly they heard one of their attackers call out making Clint and Natasha frown at each other, "So, Natalia, are you ready to come home?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the basic translations of the Russian and German in this chapter:  
> Süße - Honey  
> Мой дорогой муж - My dear husband  
> Вы идиот - You idiot  
> идиот - Idiot


	13. Round One-BlackHawk vs the Red Room Pt2

_"So, Natalia, are you ready to come home?"_

"Which of those bastards said that?" Clint asked, the angry, bloodthirsty gaze returning to his eyes.

"Alexei," Natasha whispered as she ducked again. "The bastard's obsessed," she added, returning fire.

"Obsessed would be an understatement!" Clint shouted, thanking whatever God that actually existed that he had been able to retrieve his bow from inside the car. He fired two consecutive arrows in the direction of the Red Room agents before pulling Natasha under him as he detonated the explosives.

"Come on!" he shouted as he grabbed her hand and they both ran towards the fire escape.

**_"Barton, Romanoff, I have a helicopter en-route to the roof of Grand Hotel Magenta Paris. Get your asses over there now."_ **

"Copy that, Coulson. Plan?" Clint replied, the archer already deciding on his own.

**_"New ammunition ready if needed."_ **

"Roger that, Coulson. E.T.A.: ten minutes," Natasha noted, checking her watch.

* * *

Clint led Natasha up to the roof, the two running as quickly as possible up the second fire escape stairs they had used that day. The two assassins burst out onto the roof, finding Coulson and the helicopter waiting for them.

"Get on Tasha!" Clint shouted, letting go of her hand as he grabbed the new quiver Phil had ready for him.

"What are you doing?!" Natasha replied, looking at her lover throw the strap of the new quiver over his shoulder while also looking like he had a new mission.

"I'm going after them!" he confessed, making his lover's breathing and heart stop in fear.

"What?!" she shouted, unable to comprehend what her lover had just said.

"I'm going after those three pricks! You're getting on that helicopter with Phil!"

"I'm not leaving without you!" Natasha shouted over the noise of the repellers of the helicopter. Her hand stayed on Clint's bicep, refusing to let the archer go.

"I'm not asking you, Tasha!" he replied, making Natasha pause in surprise. "I need to know that you're okay! So get on the damn copter!"

"I can't lose you!" she screamed, not budging from her spot. "I'm not letting those bastards take you away from me as well!"

Clint saw the tears streaming down Natasha's face, the rain not even hindering his eyesight. Suddenly, he cupped the red-head's cheeks and kissed her fully on the lips, putting all of his feeling for her into the kiss. Pulling away, he looked her straight in the eye. "You're not going to lose me, Tasha. I promise you," he stated, his voice loud enough to be heard over the repellers.

"Clint, please don't do this! You don't have to prove anything!"

"I know that! But I'm not going to let those bastards hurt you again!"

Clint nodded at Phil who wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist and pulled her away from her partner, the red-head kicking and screaming in her handler's grip. Despite her best attempts, the suit had trapped her arms to her side and her bullet wound wasn't helping her.

"Phil, let me go! He's going to get himself killed! Phil!" Natasha screamed as the suit got her onto the helicopter. "Phil! Let me help him!"

"Natasha, calm down! Clint will be fine!" Phil shouted, keeping his hold on the red-head as the pilot took off.

"They have snipers all over the city with Clint as their target! Phil, please!" But the suit was relentless. "Phil, I can't lose him! Please! I need to help him!"

Seeing no other solution to his current problem, Phil grabbed a syringe, filled with a heavy sedative. Making sure Natasha couldn't see what was in his hand - he learned that the hard way, the first time he met her when Clint made a different call - he slid the needle into her vena cava, effectively knocking her out.

* * *

_Coulson hesitantly approached the_ Black Widow _as she snarled at the agents who tried to handcuff her. "Ms Romanova, you're under arrest until Director Fury speaks to you. The handcuffs are necessary."_

_The red-head raised an eyebrow at the suit. "You're handing me a weapon if you put those on me," she warned him._

_"Then what do you suggest we do instead?"_

_"I gave Clint... I gave_ Hawkeye _my word that I would come quietly. I don't go back on my word."_

_"Why should I trust you?"_

_"I trust_ Hawkeye. _"_

 _Phil paused at that. "_ You _trust Barton?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Why?"_

_"He offered me a way out of Hell. Who was I to deny that chance?"_

_"Then why does Barton have three knife wounds? And you have had an arrow removed from your shoulder?"_

_"That was before he made a different call," she deadpanned._

_Turning to the agent beside him, Phil took a syringe filled with a heavy sedative and turned back to the red-head who immediately began taking steps backwards. Her breathing had deepened, her green eyes wide. She was scared. Terrified, even. Because of the needle._

_"Please, no. Please, don't," she begged, punching Phil in the face when he came too close. The suit shouted out in pain, stumbling backwards while clutching his nose. The sight of the red-head sliding down the wall - for a lack of a better word -cowering from the needle was too much for Clint to handle. The red-head really had gone through Hell if she was that terrified of needles._

_Approaching her slowly, the archer dropped to the ground where Natalia was, gently pulling her into his arms. "Sshh, it's okay. Natalia, it's me, Clint. No one is going to hurt you. I promised you. I'm not going to break that promise. They won't hurt you. I won't let them hurt you. Relax, okay? They're not going to touch you," he whispered into her ear, repeating himself until she calmed down. He knew she wasn't a risk when she buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking deep, calming breaths._

_Every agent on the plane went quiet, staring at the infamous_ Black Widow _cower in_ Hawkeye's _arms. Natalia had curled herself up against Clint. Noticing her still scared body language, the archer wrapped his strong, steel arms around the red-head protectively, holding her close._

_Looking at every agent there, Clint narrowed his eyes at all of them, including Coulson. "No one is to come near her. And get rid of every syringe. If any of you have a problem, you'll answer to me. With an arrow through an eyeball," he threatened, glaring at Agent Ward who had had the syringe ready for Coulson. "Agent Coulson, you might want to have that nose checked too."_

_Coulson glared at Clint for his last retort with a look that said, 'You think?' "You heard him. Everyone get back to your stations. Leave Agent Barton to deal with Ms Romanova."_

* * *

"You did what?!" Clint shouted, unable to comprehend what Phil had just told him. "You sedated Natasha?! When she has a .50 caliber gunshot wound to the shoulder. Are you fucking serious?!"

**_"Clint, calm down. I removed the bullet myself. I had to sedate her on the helicopter. She was kicking and screaming. She wouldn't cause herself more damage."_ **

"Did she see the needle?"

**_"No. I made sure she didn't see it. I learned my lesson the last time."_ **

"You're lucky she only broke your nose that day."

**_"Oh shut up."_ **

"Phil?"

**_"Yeah, Clint?"_ **

"Keep Tasha safe until I get back. And tell her that I love her and I'll see her soon."

**_"I will. Has this 'outside' back-up you called for, arrive yet?"_ **

"Yes."

**_"You gonna tell me who this mysterious backup is?"_ **

"He may or may not work for the F.B.I."

**_"You called your brother?"_ **

"He was already in Paris. And he can hear you."

**_"You didn't -..."_ **

"Hi Phil. Little bro here still wrecking your head?"

**_"Charles Bernard Barton. To what do I owe the pleasure of listening to both Bartons?"_ **

"It's Barney, not Charles. Barney."

**_"Clint, Natasha's gonna kill you."_ **

"I'll make it up to her when I get back."

**_"Don't you fucking start dissing my love life again, Barton! Don't you fucking start!"_ **

Both brothers started laughing at that, leaving the suit to realise he had just shouted that out in front of several other agents.

**_"Fuck up. Get this over as quickly as possible."_ **

"Haha... Yes... Haha... Sir..."

"Oh fuck. I forgot how funny it was when you piss someone off, Clint."

"Shut up, Barney the Dinosaur. We've got some hunting to do."


	14. Round One-BlackHawk vs the Red Room Pt3

_Natalia paused as she let_ Hawkeye _led her into his hotel room, the red-head's thoughts immediately went to thinking that the archer was just after a night of pleasure in exchange for saving her life. Sighing, she pulled her top over her head, wincing at her shoulder injury. Barton had already entered the bathroom so she was grateful that he hadn't seen her small moment of weakness. Removing her bra proved to be just as painful but removing her other clothing was much easier._

_Sitting on the bed, Natalia took a deep breath and closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself. She opened her eyes when she heard Barton re-enter the bedroom, the archer freezing on the spot when he realised that she was stark naked on the bed._

_"Why are you naked?" Clint asked, surprising the red-head._

_"Isn't this why you spared me?" she replied, gesturing to her body._

_"... No..." Clint started as he held up the first aid box in his hands. "I spared you because I know what it's like to be alone," he explained, walking over to his bag and taking out a spare T-shirt._

_"Are you gay or something?" Natalia asked, raising an eyebrow at the twenty-five-year-old as he handed her his spare shirt._

_"Oh believe me, I'm not," he replied, keeping his eyes on her face as she put on the shirt. "You're possibly the most beautiful woman I'll ever have the honour of seeing. But women aren't just objects for men to satisfy their sexual needs. That's what porn is for."_

_Natalia's eyebrow arched further in genuine surprise. "Why don't you just take me to settle our debt? I, personally, hate the thought of owing anyone a debt."_

_"I didn't spare you so that you'd owe me a favour, Ms Romanova," the archer stated are he took a seat beside her and opened the first aid kit. Taking out all the items he would need, he turned to the red-head who was staring at him with a curious stare. "I do agree that not everyone in this life is forgiving. Kind. Caring. But there are people out there who believe in giving others second chances. There are people who genuinely give a shit. Not many, but there are."_

_Natalia kept still as the archer began to clean the several cuts on her face, gently applying the alcohol to the grazes. "Why?" she whispered as he cleaned her lip tenderly._

_Clint frowned in thought but continued to clean her cuts. "Do you know what it's like to be hungry? To feel like the only one who cares is yourself?"_

_"Yes," she breathed, noticing the hurt and sorrowful look in the agent's stormy grey eyes; it was the same look she saw every time she looked in the mirror._

_Clint smiled sadly at her admission. "So do I," was all he said in reply. Once he had cleaned all of her cuts, he paused as he gestured to her injured shoulder. "You'll need to pull the shirt to the side to clean out that shoulder," he stated matter-of-factly._

_Natalia pulled the neckline down over her shoulder so Clint could clean out her shoulder. The red-head kept quiet as he began to stitch her wound close, his movements slow and graceful as he tied the knot on the stitch. Glancing down, she found the archer was quite a good nurse. Frowning as a thought struck her , she lifted her head to look at the agent as he put back the items into the kit. "Stop," she said, placing her hand on his wrist when he was putting away the alcohol and wipes. "Cleaning my cuts is definitely a favour I'm sure you won't mind me repaying," she explained, gesturing towards his own cuts._

_Clint could only raise an eyebrow at the red-head, bemused. Handing her the items, he pulled his own shirt over his head. "Just don't touch me shoulders or my chest," he directed, earning a confused, raised eyebrow. "I have haphephobia," he explained, pointing at the visible scars on his chest. "My drunk, abusive father was a little too trigger-happy with broken bottles, belts and cigarette buds."_

_Natalia had no words to respond to the archer's admission. Instead, she simply began to clean his cuts with the same care and gentleness he had bestowed on her. "You haven't told me your first name," she stated, trying to ease the tension she saw in his shoulders._

_"Clint," he responded, watching her move so gracefully yet so controlled. "I'm not going to hurt you," he added, watching the Russian pause. "I promise. I'm not one for taking advantage of women."_

_"Why should I trust you on that?"_

_"My father abused my mother."_

_Natalia stopped what she was doing to look Clint in the eye. "Okay. I guess you're not lying."_

_The archer snorted in reply. "I wish that it didn't have to take that admission to make you believe me."_

_"For what it's worth, Clint, I trust enough to believe you won't hurt me."_

* * *

Natasha glared at everyone who passed her as she made her way through the Parisian S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, heading for her handler's office. She was fuming; first, Clit decides to go on a hunting spree for her ex-trainers the Phil sedates her. She didn't know which of the two she was going to torture and then kill.

Not bothering to knock, the red-head stormed into the office, glaring at her handler. "Hello, Natasha. Can I help you?" he asked calmly, looking up at the angry assassin.

The red-head didn't answer him. Instead, she walked over to the desk, brought her right hand back and bringing it forward quickly, punched the suit square in the face.

"Fuck! Romanoff!" Phil shouted, bringing his hands up to his broken nose, trying to stop the torrents of blood streaming from his face.

"That's for sedating me," she told him simply before turning on her heel and heading towards the door. "And if you want to be smart," she added, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder, "I won't have to come looking for you to find out where Agent Barton is."

Coulson gulped as Natasha left. An angry _Black Widow_ was someone only one person was able to negotiate with. The only problem was, that person just happened to be the archer she was looking for.

* * *

**_"Barton, you've pissed off Romanoff."_ **

Barney turned to his brother, smirking at him. "Ooohh, _Hawkeye's_ actually managed to piss off the _Black Widow._ "

Clint glared at his brother before continuing to work on the new arrow set he had been working on. "Define _'angry',_ Phil."

**_"Well, firstly, she's broken my nose. Again. Secondly, she's very_ ** **\- very - _quiet and glaring at everyone. Thirdly she warned me that she was not to come looking for me to be told where you are. And, finally, she referred to you as_ Agent Barton. _"_**

Clint stopped at Phil's words. "She... she called me by my title...?"

**_"... Yes."_ **

The archer put the arrow heads down and buried his face in his hands. Barney could do nothing but watch his younger brother's walls fall. The thirty-three-year-old watched the twenty-seven-year-old heave tearless breaths as he tried to control himself.

**_"Clint?"_ **

"Agent Coulson, I'll contact you when we find Petrovitch, Shostakov and Belova," Clint stated coolly, allowing his _Hawkeye_ façade to take its place.

Barney heard Coulson sigh in sympathy and concern for the youngest Barton. **_"Understood, Agent Barton."_**

With that, Clint immediately began to work on his arrow heads, shutting his brother out before he could even began to talk about the younger brother's relationship.

* * *

Phil found Natasha in the gym, destroying a new punching bag with five already lying on the floor, he waited until she was finished her current one before even attempting to get nearer to her; he'd only just had his nose reset, he didn't want another visit to the medical area.

"Agent Coulson, I thought it was only _Hawkeye_ who watched me train," Natasha greeted coldly, turning her head to glare at her handler.

"Clint asked me to tell you that he loves you and that he will see you as soon as he gets back," the suit replied calmly.

Natasha's eyes immediately softened at that, the red-head turning her head to rest her forehead against the punching bag. "Is... is he okay?" she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

"Physically, he's fine," Phil started, watching Natasha turn her head to look at him with a questioning frown. "Emotionally, not so much," he added, unspokeningly informing the red-head that he had told the archer just how pissed she was. Is.

"He... I can't lose him, Phil," she almost whispered. Just the thought had her heart shattering. "I can't lose the most important person in my life."

"You're not going to lose him, Natasha. Barton's stubborn. Once he gets a thought in his head, he sticks to it. You should already know this."

"Doesn't stop me from fearing the worst."

"I thought the _Black Widow_ believes that _love is for children._ "

Natasha snorted. "The _Black Widow_ is a façade. A mask. A symbol," she started, remembering how Clint taught her how to separate _her_ and the _Black Widow._ "She's what I wear as my walls when I'm on a mission. But me, Behind that mask... I believe in love. I'm loved. I love. I'm human behind the mask. But only with Clint."

Phil could only standby as Natasha began on her seventh punching bag, the red-head falling into her mission façade in the a sense of her partner.

* * *

 _Hawkeye_ watched as his brother began to take aim as they saw Petrovitch, Shostakov and Belova enter the warehouse. "Any preferences on who does first?" the older of the two archers asked.

 _Hawkeye's_ cold, black stare told _Trickshot_ all he needed to know. "None. Just make it the most painful experience they've ever had," the twenty-seven-year-old instructed, clicking his own bow open. "Make them wish they were never born."

"Understood," _Trickshot_ replied as he let go of the bowstring, letting the explosive arrow fly to the feet of the three Russians. They tried to scatter but were thrown off their feet by the force of the blow.

 _Hawkeye_ and _Trickshot_ quickly descended from their vantage point, attacking their targets before they got back on their feet. _Hawkeye_ deflected attacks from both the _Red Guardian_ and the _Pale Little Spider,_ returning with his own attempts. Firing two arrows, he sent the Russian _Captain America_ backwards into the nearby wall while parrying the blonde's scissor kick.

 _Trickshot_ was busy fighting Petrovitch as the older man shouted orders into his comm. link. The thirty-three-year-old easily began to dominate their fight before the sudden appearance of Red Room agents storming the building.

Distracted by the foot soldiers _, Hawkeye_ and _Trickshot_ were forced into backing out of their respective fights to defend themselves. But the foot soldiers were quickly and easily put out of their misery by the two brothers.

"They're heading to the roof!" _Trickshot_ shouted as he finished off the last of the foot soldiers. "Go! I'll cover you!"

 _Hawkeye_ nodded, racing towards the fire escape where the Red Room senior agents had exited through. He quickly made his way up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Bursting out through the door, the archer found his three targets running towards a helicopter. Taking one of his new arrow heads, _Hawkeye_ took aim and let it loose. Hitting Belova in the back of her left knee, the blonde let out a blood-curling scream as the electrical currents tore through her body.

"Leave her!" Petrovitch shouted at Shostakov when the red-head turned to his partner. "She's as good as dead now!"

Nodding, the _Red Guardian_ boarded the helicopter, leaving his blonde partner screaming and twisting in pain on the floor.

Unable to get a direct hit to either of the men, _Hawkeye_ shot another arrow at the back repeller, hitting it easily with a tracker. He sent the signal to _Trickshot_ to forward it to Coulson. Turning back to his victim, the archer sent another of his new arrow heads at her when she tried to get up.

"You bastard!" she screamed at him. "I'm gonna find that red-haired whore and I'm gonna make her my bitch," she informed him with a perverted sneer. "And I'll make you watch as I make her scream for me."

 _Hawkeye_ took all of what Belova said, letting it add fire to his fuelling rage. Taking his third custom arrow head, he placed it directly on the small of her back. The electric currents shot through her, causing the _Pale Little Spider_ to scream in agony.

"Do you like my new arrows?" _Hawkeye_ teased with a bloodthirsty sneer. "I've nicknamed them the _Black Widow_ arrowheads," he continued, circling the blonde, "You don't realise they're there until it's too late for you to stop the inevitable."

"вы чертовски укол!" she screamed at him. "I'll kill you! I'll tie you up and make you watch Natalia bleed to death! And then I'll kill you!"

Clint chuckled darkly at her words. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Because you'll be in Hell when I leave," he informed her with an evil smirk.

Belova looked up at the archer in fear. "What do you mean?" she asked as she watched him send a message to someone. "What are you planning?"

Instead of responding, _Hawkeye_ notched an arrow as he stepped onto the ledge before pressing a button on his quiver, activating the electric currents of the three arrows. "I've decided to be judge, jury and executioner for you, Petrovitch and Shostakov," he told her as she screamed in complete agony at the pain coursing through her body.

Turning, _Hawkeye_ checked his surroundings before turning to face the screaming blonde. "Удачи в аду сука!" he shouted, releasing the arrow as he jumped off the edge and onto the ramp of the Quinjet _Trickshot_ had ready for him.

* * *

Clint nodded at Phil as he entered-headquarters, meeting his handler at the main entrance. "Yelena Belova aka the _Pale Little Spider_ has been terminated," he stated just as Natasha entered. The archer looked his lover, trying to get a read on her but was only met with the cold, dark mask of the _Black Widow._

Natasha walked up to Clint, her eyes cold and callous, revealing nothing. Everyone stopped to look at S.T.R.I.K.E. Team Delta's reunion. Suddenly, the red-head swung a firm right hook, hitting her partner square in the jaw. The archer stumbled back in surprise before glaring at the twenty-one-year-old. But his glare quickly turned to concern when he saw her walls crack, her eyes taking the same look she got when she was near needles or out-of-control fire. Turning on her heel, the spy left, not bothering to utter a word.

Barney had entered just as Natasha hit Clint, the thirty-three-year-old whistling nervously as the red-head left. "I'm gonna take a guess and say that that young woman who handed you that brilliant right hook is Natasha," he stated, raising a knowing eyebrow at his brother.

"Yeah. And I've pissed her off..." Clint replied before following the red-head to where they had shared quarters. He found her packing up some of her clothes, tears streaming down her face. The archer locked the door behind him before slowly walking up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her away from her current actions. She went willingly, resting her hands over his.

Slowly, the twenty-seven-year-old turned the twenty-one-year-old around in his arms, cupping her face with one hand. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers, a silent promise to her. Natasha slowly brought her hands up, placing one on her chest while bringing the other to his hair.

Suddenly, Clint placed his hands on her ass and lifted her up. She easily wrapped her legs around his waist, their kiss soon turning desperate. Moving against the wall, the archer helped her out of her black jacket, tight red top and skinny jeans. He tugged his own shirt over his head as he dropped his pants and boxers with the red-head's help. He ripped her own underwear from her pale petite body.

Natasha's lips barely left Clint's as he entered her. She needed this. She needed to know that she wasn't going to lose him. That he was still here. She gasped his name as he filled her up. He kept one arm under the curve of her firm ass, the other hand placed on the nape of her neck.

There was little words between them as the archer began to move inside the spy. She had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, keeping him as close to her body as possible. Dominating the kiss, Clint groaned into the kiss as Natasha brought her hands to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin every time he thrust inside her.

Natasha broke the kiss as her back arched away from the wall, crying Clint's name out. Her clenching and quivering walls around Clint's cock, pulled the archer into his own orgasm. He bit down on her neck as he shouted and came inside her.

They stayed their for what felt like hours before Clint, finally, pulled out of her and carried her over to the bed. Lying down, Natasha watched her lover walk into the bathroom, returning with a washcloth. The archer took his time in cleaning the red-head, basically worshipping her body. His own personal, silent apology for scaring her.

Once he was satisfied that he had cleaned every spot of her body, Clint returned the washcloth and came back to find Natasha pulling his shirt over her head. Smiling slightly at the sight of his lover in _his_ clothes, the archer pulled on a clean pair of boxers before climbing into bed beside the red-head.

He almost sighed in relief when the spy rolled over to rest her head on his chest, throwing her right arm over his stomach while hooking her leg over his hip. He brought his left hand to stroke her cheek lovingly, his right arm wrapping around her waist protectively with his hand coming to rest on the middle of her stomach.

"Tasha, I -..." Clint started but was cut off by Natasha pressing her lips to the nice, dark bruise she had left him with.

"Don't. Just hold me, Clint," she whispered, placing her head back on his chest. Her ear directly over his heart, listening to his firm, steady heartbeat.

Pressing his lips firmly against her temple, Clint pulled her tighter against him as she laid her left hand on his sternum lovingly. "Я люблю тебя, Natasha Alianova Romanova," he whispered in her mother tongue.

Natasha pressed her lips to the cigarette scars on his chest. "Я тоже тебя люблю, Clinton Francis Barton," she whispered before letting herself fall asleep in his arms, thanking whatever God that is actually up there that her Hawk had returned to her safely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of this chapter  
> вы чертовски укол - You fucking asshole  
> Удачи в аду сука - Good luck in Hell Bitch  
> Я люблю тебя - I love you  
> Я тоже тебя люблю - I love you too


	15. Forgiveness - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are the translations of this chapter:  
> мой ястреб - my Hawk  
> мой паук - my spider

Clint woke up the next morning with a low groan. His jaw was throbbing. Slowly, he slid from beneath Natasha's hold, making sure not to wake her up in the process. When he finally got out of her grip, the twenty-seven-year-old padded over into the bathroom. He frowned as he looked at the bruise forming on his left cheek. 'Damn,' he thought to himself as he pressed two fingers to the darkened skin, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through him, 'I forgot how hard Natasha's punches are.'

Taking a fresh washcloth, Clint wet the cloth under the cold water before moving it to his jaw in an attempt to ease the throbbing. He was so distracted, he didn't notice his lover enter the bathroom, holding an icepack for him. He almost jumped when she placed her hand on his shoulder but relaxed when he recognised her touch.

Turning to her, the twenty-seven-year-old kept his eyes on the twenty-one-year-old as she pulled the cloth from his face only to place the icepack inside it and returned it to his cheek. Using her free hand, Natasha stroked his other cheek lovingly before stepping up on her toes and pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry," she whispered softly, her voice huskier than usual from lack of use and sleep.

"I deserved it," he replied, bringing his arms to wrap them around her waist, effectively bringing her body to his. "I'm sorry Phil sedated you," he added, bringing his left hand up and rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip.

"I broke his nose. Again," she replied, smirking at him weakly. "I don't think he'll try that again," she continued, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his bare chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tasha," he whispered, leaning down slightly to press her lips to his lover's forehead. "Belova's gone," he whispered, pulling her closer when she froze at the mention of the Russian's name.

"Did you...?"

"Yes. I got to test my new arrowheads on her too."

Frowning, Natasha moved her head to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

Smirking, he continued to explain, "Electric currents in the arrowhead. On impact, they release 3,000 volts. I nicknamed them, _the Black Widow_ arrowheads."

Natasha grinned, shaking her head at him playfully. "Ever the romantic, Barton."

Clint returned her grin. "What can I say? I like pleasing you," he whispered, smiling when she chuckled at him.

Suddenly, Natasha frowned as she trailed the fingers of her free hand over the various scars on his chest. "You scared me," she confessed, her voice cracking slightly. "I was so scared that I'd lose you."

Clint pulled her closer, bending his head so he could whisper in her ear. "I promised you that you wouldn't lose me, Nat. You know that I never break my promises to you," he whispered, pressing her lips to her pulse point. "I'd never break my promises to you."

Natasha nodded, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "What are we going to do now? Petrovitch and Shostakov are still out there," she whispered, her voice muffled against his skin.

"Nothing at this moment. What we _are_ going to do is get ready to go home. No need to be sorry about those bastards right now."

Natasha smiled and pulled her head from his neck, pulling the icepack from his cheek. "Damn, I hit you hard," she whispered, frowning as she skimmed her fingertips over the bruise.

"Don't worry about it, Nat. Besides, I left enough of my own marks on you over the past week," he pointed out, gesturing towards the love marks that weren't by his shirt. "I think it more than makes up for it."

"Perv," she half-murmured as he leaned down and claimed her lips in a soft but passionate kiss.

"Your perv," he whispered as he slowly slid his hands down over the curve of her ass and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She immediately brought her own arms around his neck dropping the icepack to the floor.

Gently, he laid her down on the bed, straddling her as he deepened the kiss. Natasha's right hand to his locks, her nails scraping along his scalp. The archer groaned his appreciation into the kiss.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Clint helped the red-head out of his shirt before removing his boxers. Natasha let him push her back down onto the bed, his lips reclaiming hers as his trailed his hands all over her body.

Natasha groaned into the kiss as her lover trailed his callous covered hands over her body. There wasn't a spot on her body that he left untouched. And it was driving her mad.

Sensing her frustration at his slow pace, the archer broke the kiss. "Patience, Babe. I was too rough yesterday. I want to make it up to you," he whispered, trailing his lips along her jawline lovingly. "Please. I need to do this, Tasha."

Natasha could only nod, her lips parted as he nipped on her skin. "Okay, " she eventually murmured, gasping when he rolled her hardening nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "Clint!"

Clint grinned against her skin, kissing and sucking on her neck as he moved down her body. When he reached her chest, the archer took his time in worshipping her breasts. Nails digging into his tanned skin when he suckled on her nipples like a nursing infant. Natasha grasped his names in pleasure, her head thrown back as he worked his lips and hands over her chest.

The archer grinned against his lover's pale skin, leaving his own marks over her chest, loving the knowledge of knowing that she was enjoying it. Slowly, he let his hands trail further down her body. When he reached her thighs, he slowly spread them to allow himself to spread her lower lips. Moving his head to claim her mouth with his, teasingly slid his middle finger inside her, earning a guttural moan of approval from the red-head.

"Clint," Natasha gasped, breaking the kiss as he added a second finger inside her. "Oh fuck."

Clint continued to pump his fingers inside her, earning gasps and moans of approval from her. Slowly, he began to put pressure on her G-spot, earning high-pitched moans from the red-head.

Natasha groaned as she felt her orgasm begin to reach its climax, Clint doing his best to drive her over the edge of oblivion. She tossed her head back in pleasure, moaning his name as her walls and thighs began to shake in ecstasy.

The archer moved his lips to her weak spot, biting down and sucking on her pulse point as she fell into the grips of her ecstasy. Natasha screamed his name out as she came hard around his fingers, her whole body shaking with pleasure. Clint gently brought her down from her high, slowing his pace until her trembling was minimal.

"Fuck," she gasped as her body settled back into the mattress, kissing him gently when he brought his lips to hers. "Thank you," she whispered before moaning when he pulled his fingers out of her.

"No need to thank me, мойпаук," he replied kissing her gently as he straddled her. "I love you," he added, smiling against her lips when she murmured her reply of the same words.

Natasha brought her hands up over Clint's abdomen and chest, slipping them around his neck as the archer teased her, grinding his extremely hard erection against her left hip while he lowered his mouth to her ear. "Tell me what you want, Tasha. Want to hear you tell me what you want."

"Want you to make love to me, Clint," she whispered, her fingers playing with the stray hairs on the nape of his neck. "Want you to make me forgot everything but you and me."

"Gladly," Clint whispered as Natasha reached down between them and positioned his cock at her entrance. Slowly, he pushed inside her, making them groan and moan their approval as he stretched her.

"Oh God," Natasha moaned, tossing her head back as he slowly began to thrust inside her. "Fuck. Clint. Yes."

Clint hiked her left leg over his shoulder, sending him deeper inside her. "Want to hear you song for me, Tasha," he purred into her ear. "Wanna hear you moan and sing for me, Baby." He pushed into her deeper and harder with each thrust. Each of his long, slow strokes earning pleasure-filled groans of pleasure from the red-head. "Sing for me, Tasha. Wanna hear you."

Natasha did as her lover asked, crying out in pleasure with each thrust. Her nails were digging into the firm muscles of his back, her whole body shaking as he drove her towards another orgasm. "Please," she moaned, her breath hitching in her throat as he hit her G-spot and clit with each movement of his hips. "Clint, take me."

The archer grinned and moved his lips to her pulse point, sucking and nipping on her skin in time with his thrusts until the only word falling from her lips was his name. Hooking her right leg around his waist, one hand cupping her firm ass, Clint began to increase his pace. He moved faster and faster, each thrust only serving to move both of them further to their climax.

Natasha felt the familiar pooling of heat in her stomach, another telltale sign of her oncoming orgasm. She was so close. Oh so close. But she wanted to come at the same time Clint did. So she told him exactly that. "Please, Clint. I want to come with you. I want you to fill me up as we come together," she begged, her voice several octaves lower than usual.

Clint moved his mouth to claim Natasha's, more than willing to do as she requested. "Let go," he whispered into her mouth, feeling his own orgasm on the verge. "Let go for me, Tasha. Come for me."

The red-head screamed in pleasure, tossing her head back in pleasure as she came hard around him, pulling her lover into his own orgasm. She cried out his name as he shouted hers. He thrust once, twice more before planting himself deep inside her, filling her up with his seed.

Clint collapsed on top of Natasha, groaning her name into her chest while they came down from their highs. He pressed multiple kisses to her skin, slowly making his way up to her lovely lips. "Я люблю тебя, мой паук," he whispered against her lips.

"Я тоже тебя люблю, мой ястреб," she whispered returning his soft but passionate kiss.

Slowly, he rolled them over so Natasha was on top, continuing their lazy, loving kiss.

* * *

"Clint?" Natasha whispered, unsure if her lover was still awake.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, his face buried in her red hair.

"I want to try something when we get home," she started, her senses focused on Clint's heartbeat as she told him her idea. "I want you to tie me up and blindfold me."

Clint's eyes shot opened at Natasha's words. "What?" he whispered, surprised at his lover's request.

Raising her head, Natasha looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to tie me up and blindfold me," she repeated, watching him carefully for any sign of hesitation.

"Are you sure?" he asked, lifting his hand to stroke her cheek lovingly. "I don't want to hurt you. Or force you to do anything you don't want to do."

Natasha smiled at him softly. "You're not. I trust you. And I want to try it. If I don't like it, or it triggers bad memories, we have safe words, Clint."

Clint nodded, leaning down slightly and kissing her gently. "Okay," he whispered into her mouth. "We'll try it."

Natasha grinned against his lips before pulling away. "We better stop. Transport's leaving at 14.15," she mumbled, sitting up and stretching. She practically purred when he trailed his fingertips from her hips and up her stomach lovingly.

"It's only 10.53," he replied, watching her with a hungry glint.

"I know. But I was planning on having a long," she started, leaning down and whispering seductively in his ear, "slow, relaxing shower. What do you think... _Master_?"

Clint's eyes shut as he groaned at Natasha's seductive words. "Minx," he whispered, opening his eyes to look at her with lust and desire combined with love. "You are the biggest teasing minx. You know that right?" he stated, his voice husky as he stood up with his red-haired lover in his arms.

Natasha grinned at him seductively before moving her lips to his pulse point, sucking and nipping on his skin teasingly. "I do try, мой ястреб," she purred, giggling as Clint carried her into the bathroom...

* * *

Clint and Natasha nodded at Phil as they entered the suit's office on the Helicarrier. The suit's nose still had tape on it, the bruises losing the red shadows as they began to heal.

"Natasha, you're a bitch," Phil stated when the door closed behind the two assassins. "Of all things you had to do, you had to break my nose? Seriously?"

Natasha smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "You should've learned the last time you tried to sedate me, Coulson. This time you actually sedated me. You're lucky all you got was a broken nose. I was debating on castrating you," she confessed, making both Clint and Phil freeze at her statement.

"Please tell me you're joking...?" Phil replied, his voice squeaking from fear.

"Then I'd be lying," she responded as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of their handler's desk.

"If you were planning on castrating Phil, what were you planning on doing to me?" Clint asked, watching her carefully as he took a seat beside her. Natasha's eyes immediately took a painful look and he knew something was wrong. "Tasha?"

"I didn't think I'd get the chance," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes not meeting his.

Clint didn't care if Phil was watching them. He moved so he was kneeling in front of Natasha, cupping her face with both of his hands. "Мой паук, I made you a promise," he whispered, watching her slowly raise her eyes so she was looking him in the eye. "Tell me what's going through your head, моя любовь," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Petrovitch and Shostakov are still out there," she murmured, her eyes full of hidden fear and darkness.

"And I won't let them hurt you, Nat. I promise," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers lovingly. "They'll be dead before they even get the chance to lay a finger on you."

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing the oldest of the two Bartons standing in the doorway. "Now, now, Clint. It's rude to keep your brother waiting for the chance to meet his future sister-in-law."

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise as she recognised the similarities between her lover and his older brother. Raising an eyebrow at Clint, she smirked slightly as she asked, "Future sister-in-law?"

Clint smiled at her as he replied, "I told you that I was in it for the long run."

"Cocky much? You still have to ask me yet."

"Shall I do it now? Or surprise you?"

"Ok, lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but am I going to introduced or not?" Barney interrupted, making Natasha and Clint glanced at him, amused. Phil only chuckled, watching the scene play out in front of him.

"Barney, meet Natasha Romanoff, my partner and - for lack of a more appropriate name - my girlfriend. Tasha, meet my older brother and the biggest pain in my ass, Charles Bernard Barton.”


	16. Forgiveness - Part Two

_"Barney, meet Natasha Romanoff, my partner and - for lack of a more appropriate name - my girlfriend. Tasha, meet my older brother and the biggest pain in my ass, Charles Bernard Barton."_

"How many times have I told you, _Clinton,_ to not call me by my full name?" Barney hissed at his younger brother, glaring when the twenty-seven-year-old only laughed at him in reply.

"Okay, _Barney the Dinosaur,_ what do you want?" Clint replied, earning another death glare from his older brother.

"You're such a pain in _my_ ass," Barney muttered, stepping into the office and letting the door shut behind him. "So how long has it taken you to introduce your girlfriend to your big brother?"

"Seven months, three weeks and five days," Clint easily answered, making all three of them raise their eyebrows at him.

"You've been counting?" Natasha asked, smirking at him knowingly.

Clint grinned. "Of course. Our anniversary is the 10th April," he stated, smirking at the shocked look on his lover's face. "What? Did you think I'd forget the day we started our relationship?"

"You're such a romantic," she whispered, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his gently.

"Did you know _Clinton_ is such a romantic?" Barney asked Phil, the suit smirking at the older of the Bartons in reply.

"Yes. And I knew since the day he made a different call that they end up together," Phil stated, making Natasha and Clint look at him with raised eyebrows.

"How much did you win in that pool that you, Fury and Maria had on us?" Natasha asked, her eyes turning to a narrowed stare as her handler's smirk widened.

"Hill had to do my paperwork for three months and do my rookie training for two months. I got a rise too. And the pool amount was $2,000 so I am a very happy man right now," Phil stated, making his agents chuckle in response.

"Didn't know you were a gambler, Phil. _Clinton_ , on the other hand. Well, it's obvious now that he is. Especially after bringing in the _Black Widow_ instead of terminating her," Barney teased, earning a glare off his younger brother.

"Would you quit calling me by my first name?" Clint hissed, glaring at his older brother. "There's only one person I even consider calling me _Clinton_ and it definitely not you."

"Yes. And everyone here knows exactly who that one person is, _Hawkeye,_ " the older of the two stated, smirking at his brother knowingly. "You're wrapped up in the _Black Widow's_ web."

"Eyes are better than tricks, _Trickshot,_ " Clint shot back, smiling at his brother when he glared at him. "And Hawks are more deadly than _Barney the Dinosaur_."

"Okay, insulting is actually a Barton trait," Natasha stated, interrupting her lover and his brother's banter. "And here I thought it was just Clint being an asshole when he felt like it."

"Thanks, мой паук. And here I thought that you loved me," Clint replied, pouting at her childishly.

Natasha bit back a moan at Clint's actions. She knew he knew the effect he had on her when he pouted. "Don't," she murmured under her breath so only Clint could hear her.

Clint smirked at her knowingly. He knew exactly what he was doing. "My brother can be a bigger asshole than me, Baby."

"I don't think that's possible," Natasha replied, earning a playful glare from her archer. "You know I love you," she added in Russian, making Clint grin in reply.

"I love you too," he replied, grinning at her before Barney interrupted them again.

"Ok, Lovebirds. Enough of the PDA. We've got some things to discuss."

"Oh? Like what?" Clint responded, both he and Natasha raising their eyebrows at Phil and Barney.

"How we're gonna deal with Petrovitch, Shostakov and the rest of the Red Room," Phil explained, watching as both of the agents in his care froze in surprise. It was going to be a long day...

* * *

Clint watched as the redhead slept beside him on the plane. She'd been asleep for little over an hour, exhausted by the events of the day. The replaying of some of the memories she had from the Red Room. Relaying the info they gained during their mission. The haunted look on her face was still etched in his mind. He couldn't get rid of that image.

"I can always tell when you're watching me, мой ястреб," Natasha murmured against his shoulder, surprising the archer.

"I thought you were asleep, Tasha," he whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. "You okay?"

"I'm... alright," she confessed. She moved her head to look at him. "I'll admit it's... hard to remember everything that happened to me in the Red Room. But I'm not there anymore. So it makes it bearable. And I have you as well."

Clint smiled at her weakly. Bringing his hand up, he cupped her face. "You'll always have me, Tasha," he whispered before kissing her softly.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

"I love you too," he replied, smiling at her softly as he pulled away.

* * *

Natasha returned her head to his shoulder, closing her eyes as Clint interlaced the fingers of his left hand with her right hand. She felt him press his lips to her head just as she fell asleep again...

Natasha grinned at Clint as they entered their apartment. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's so good to be home," the red-head stated as she dropped her backpack to the ground. Her partner's bag soon joined hers as he shut the door behind them.

"Home is where the heart is," Clint stated, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind.

"Ever the romantic, Barton," she whispered, closing her eyes as her lover moved her hair to the side so he could pepper loving kisses along her neck.

"Only for you, моя любовь," he whispered, grinning when she interlaced her fingers with his. His kisses started to become sucking nips as he moved his mouth to her pulse point.

"Any orders you want to follow... _Master_?" she purred, making Clint growl possessively against her skin.

"Strip for me," he ordered, his voice husky from desire and love.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom, _sir_ , or to the sitting-room?"

"Sitting-room, then we'll go to the bedroom," he replied, taking one of her hands and leading her to the sitting-room.

Natasha smirked at her lover as he sat down on the couch. Clint stripped his shirt off his body, his eyes watching her carefully as she straddled his lap. Slowly, the red-head brought her hands to the hem of her top, pulling it up ever-so-slowly. She smirked when he growled at her, finally ridding herself of the offending material.

Clint groaned as Natasha pressed up against him while she slid her pants off her body. He brought his hands up to her hips, holding her to him as he pressed his lips to her sternum.

Natasha slowly began to grind against his body, twisting her own so she could whisper in his ear. "Would _Master_ like to help me out of the rest of my clothes?" she purred seductively.

The archer groaned at the huskiness in his lover's voice. Moving his hands over her ass possessively, he slipped his thumbs and index fingers beneath the fabric of her thong before snapping the flimsy material and pulling the ruined fabric from her body.

Natasha moaned as Clint sucked and nibbled on her sweet spot. He slowly brought his hands up her back to her bra. Frowning when he couldn't find the hook, he pulled away from her neck with a raised eyebrow. Smirking, the red-head took his hands in hers and directed them in between her breasts. "Here, мой ястреб," she whispered.

Clint growled in approval as he easily undid the hook. Quickly removing the lacy bra from her pale body, the archer moved his mouth to his lover's chest. The red-head threw her head back in pleasure as her archer wrapped his lips around her left nipple. He sucked and nibbled on the erect areola before turning his attention to its twin.

The archer was enjoying hearing Natasha call out in pleasure, practically singing his name. He brought his hands back down to the firm curve of her ass, grinning against the skin of her chest when she sung her approval.

The ex-Russian brought her own hands down, interlacing her fingers with her lover's. Bending her head, she nipped playfully on his right ear, knowing the effect it had on him.

The twenty-seven-year-old growled and pulled away from Natasha's chest to claim the twenty-one-year-old's mouth. Their teeth and tongues clashed as they kissed hungrily. Clint broke the kiss with a loud groan as Natasha grinded against his erection, the fabric of his boxers and jeans combined with the feeling of her hot core driving him nuts.

"Tasha..." he moaned, tossing his head back as said woman continued to grind against him.

" _Master?_ " she purred in reply, bending her body to run her tongue teasingly over his right nipple. Lifting herself from straddling his lap, Natasha kept pressing her mouth to his chest as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

Clint placed his hand on Natasha's hand, silently asking was she okay with what she was planning? Her simple, wordless reply of dragging her lips down his abs was all the answer he needed. The red-head rugged on the waistband, getting the archer to raise his hips so she could remove them.

Natasha pulled Clint's pants and boxers off before dumping them behind her. Her lover groaned as his erection was freed, his groan turning to a moan when she wrapped her right hand around the base of his cock. Pumping him firmly but slowly, the red-head teased him by blowing on the head of his cock.

"Tasha... you tease," he moaned, his breathing laboured.

She replied by wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, she took as much of his length as possible into his mouth. She was rewarded with a loud shout of approval, her Hawk burying his hands in the cushions of the couch either side of him. She took her time with her ministrations, using one hand to work what she couldn't fit in her mouth while she played with his balls with her other one. Her actions had the archer putty in her hands.

Clint kept his eyes on Natasha as she worked her mouth over his cock. Is breathing as catching in his throat. He was so close. Growling, he pulled her up and claimed her lips hungrily.

Natasha gasped in surprise at Clint's sudden movements. Her surprise gave her lover the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss. The archer placed his hands on her ass as he stood up, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Carrying her to their bedroom, the archer was careful not to walk into anything.

When they finally reached the bedroom, Clint was careful not to just throw Natasha on the bed. He knew what she wanted to try. But he was hesitant. It was too soon after the reemergence of her old Red Room trainers. And their debriefing earlier was not a suitable pre-kinky-sex memory.

Breaking the kiss, Clint gently lay Natasha on the bed, peppering kisses along her face. "Are you sure you want to try...?" he started but was cut off by Natasha's lips being pressed to his.

"Yes, Clint. I trust you," she whispered, slowly pulling away from his lips. "I trust you, Clinton."

The archer swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and nodded. He had a bad feeling about it but he'd do anything for his lover. Slowly, he got off the bed and walked over to the walk-in wardrobe. Taking two soft silk belts off of tops as well as her bathrobe, the twenty-seven-year-old returned to the bed.

Natasha smiled at him softly, noticing the nervous look on her lover's face. She knew exactly why he was but she didn't dwell on it because if she did she wouldn't be able to follow through with her own request.

The archer slowly climbed onto the bed beside her. He gently tied up her arms first before moving to her feet. Pressing his lips to the inside of her right thigh, he slowly moved back up her body until he was straddling her stomach.

"What are the safe-words, Natasha?" he asked, taking the third long fabric length in his hands.

"Red for stop, black for slow down," she replied, watching his tense form.

Clint nodded before leaning down and pressing his mouth to hers. Natasha moaned into the kiss, allowing her lover entrance to her mouth once more.

Eventually, he broke the kiss, leaving them both panting for air. He climbed off of her as he peppered kisses over her face. "Tell me the minute you start feeling uncomfortable," he requested, bringing the soft belt up to her face.

"Of course," Natasha whispered, raising her head to allow him to apply the makeshift blindfold. Her body tensed at the removal of her eyesight but she forcibly took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"Is it too tight?" Clint asked, watching his lover place her head back down on her pillow.

"No. It's fine. I can't see anything," she replied, forcing her body to relax. "Continue."

The twenty-seven-year-old bit his bottom lip before beginning to trail his fingers over Natasha's taut stomach. "You're tense," he observed, watching her face as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her sternum. "Relax, Tasha. I'm not going to hurt you. You have your safewords. This is all down to you," he told her, pressing butterfly kisses along her chest.

Natasha could only nod. Despite mentally telling herself she was ready to give this totally submissive side of herself to the archer, she wasn't. Her mental preparation did not succeed in stopping the memory of the last time she had been blindfolded and tied up in the Red Room. Whimpering in fear, she begged, "No. Please. Red. Red..."

* * *

_Natalia whimpered as Shostakov roughly tied her up while Alexandrov blindfolded her. "Shut up, Bitch," Alexandrov growled at her. The twelve-year-old bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out as Shostakov roughly tied her legs to the bottom of the bed._

_"Do you think Commissar Petrovitch will approve of this?" Shostakov asked sarcastically. "This bitch didn't complete the job by the way we ordered her to. I, personally, think this is appropriate punishment."_

_"He did tell us to punish the girls in whatever way we thought necessary. And to make sure he was present for each punishment."_

_"Do you want to go get him while I prep this bitch?"_

_"No problem. Just make sure she'll be opened up properly, Alexei."_

_"When have I ever not got her prepared enough, Stefan?"_

_"Fair point. I'll go summon Commissar Petrovitch."_

_As Alexandrov left, Shostakov turned to Natalia. "Now, now, you little slut. You're gonna do exactly what I tell you. And if you scream," he started, trailing his fingers over her petite and still-developing body, "I'll make you wish you were never born."_

_Natalia couldn't stop herself from crying out in pain as Shostakov violated her young body once more but she wouldn't give him the pleasure of screaming..._

* * *

"Shit, Tasha," Clint whispered hoarsely, quickly freeing his lover from her restraints and removing her blindfold. The red-head immediately cowered backwards until her back hit the headboard. She curled her legs up in front of her chest, wrapping her arms around them as tears of fear streamed down her beautiful face.

"Tasha?" Clint whispered, pain striking through his chest as he watched Natasha's mental walls break down, leaving the mindset of small Natalia in her place. "Natalia?"

"Please, don't hurt me," she whimpered, her whole body shaking with fear. "I promise I'll do better next time. Please don't hurt me."

"Baby, you know I'd never hurt you. It's me, Clint. Your Clint. I'm not going to hurt you," Clint replied, raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "I'm not not going to hurt you, Natasha. Can I come nearer to you?"

Natalia eyed him warily as he slowly crawled up the bed until he was sitting beside her. The archer watched as Natasha was beginning to fight Natalia back. He could've sighed in relief when his lover whispered, "Clint?"

"Yes, Tasha, it's me," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist when she scurried into his lap. "It's okay. You're safe, Tasha. I've got you," he whispered, holding her close to his body.

Natasha wrapped her own arms around his body, burying her face in the curve of his neck. She sobbed against his skin, her body shaking in fear of the memories she had of her time in the Red Room.

Clint continued to whisper sweet nonsense and promises into her ear as he stroked her back comfortingly...

* * *

"I'm sorry," Clint whispered as they lay in the bed, Natasha curled into his side as she relaxed in his arms.

Frowning, Natasha raised her head to look at her lover. "For what?" she asked, confused.

"I had a bad feeling about tying you up and blindfolding you. I should've followed my instincts and not followed through with it. It could've stop the triggering of y-..." he started to explain but was cut off by his lover placing her left index and middle fingers on his lips.

"Don't, Clint. I thought I was ready. But I wasn't. Especially after this latest mission. That's not your fault," she whispered, leaning up and pressing her lips to his. "Don't blame yourself, Clint. It wasn't your fault."

Clint nodded against her lips before slowly pulling away. Resting his forehead against Natasha's, he watched as she closed her eyes in sleepy content. The sight of her peaceful expression cemented his decision. "Tasha, marry me," he said rather than asked.

Natasha's eyes shot open in surprise. "What?" she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotions.

Clint got out of bed to retrieve his gear bag, returning with a small black box. He climbed back into the bed, taking Natasha's hand in his right. "Natasha Alianova Romanova," he started as he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring, yet so simple in design, that Natasha had ever seen. "Will you do me the biggest honour and be my wife? You're already my partner. My best friend. My lover. The only one I trust with every aspect of me. All I need now is to have you for life."

Natasha bit her bottom lip and nodded, her ability to speak a coherent sentence blow to oblivion as happiness flooded her.

Clint's face broke into the biggest grin the red-head had ever seen. He claimed her lips in a hungry kiss as he slipped the ring onto her left hand, the archer unable to contain his delight. "I love you, Tasha," he whispered into her mouth.

"I love you too, Clinton," she whispered, smiling at him happily as she pulled away. "Did you think I was going to say no?" she asked.

"Yes, although it was only a small part of me that thought that way."

Natasha smiled and whispered fondly. "Идиот."

"Ваш идиот," Clint agreed, kissing her again. 'We finally get to be official,' he thought to himself as they kissed softly.


	17. Home Is Where The Heart Is

Natasha hummed her content as Clint peppered soft kisses along her spine. The red-head gasped when he slid one of his hands around her naked waist and up her body until he cupped her left breast. "Clint?" she gasped, moaning as he rolled her nipple in between his index finger and thumb.

"I didn't say you could talk yet, Natasha," he replied huskily in Russian, making the twenty-two-year-old gasp in surprise. "It's your birthday. And I'm not going to let you out of the apartment. At least, for now."

Natasha nodded, doing exactly as she was told by her lover. He knew her body better than he knew his own. And it only made the pleasure even more intense. She moaned as her lover slipped his other hand down between her legs, his callous-covered fingers finding her clit with ease.

"Mmmm... Baby, you're so wet for me," he whispered in her, nipping her earlobe teasingly. "What do you want, Natasha?"

"You," she gasped, arching into his touch. "I need you, Clint."

Clint grinned, press singing his lips to the spot just behind her ear as he slipped his middle and ring fingers inside her, his thumb still playing with her clit. "Baby, I'm gonna make you come so many times today you won't know what time of the day it is," he informed her, his voice low and husky. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Natasha gasped, moaning at the solid feel of him against her back.

"Good girl," he praised her, switching between her breasts, showing them the same amount of attention. He grinded his length against the curve of her ass, smirking when she gasped his name in pleasure. "You're such a good girl for me, Natasha," he whispered, earning a low groan from Natasha.

"Clint," she groaned as said man moved his lips to the underside of her neck. "Please," she begged, her voice hoarse from her oncoming orgasm. She was so close. Oh so close.

"Come for me, Tasha," he ordered, slipping a third finger inside her cunt, curling them against her G-spot. "Wanna hear you sing for me, Baby."

"Fuck. Fuck. Clint!!!" Natasha screamed, finally letting herself come. She writhed in Clint's arms, panting in pleasure.

Clint kissed along Natasha's neck as she slowly came down from her high. Pressing his lips to behind her ear, he slowly positioned her to lay down on her back, her eyes still closed as she recovered.

"Happy birthday, Natasha Alianova Romanova," he whispered in Russian, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

Natasha smiled softly against his lips, kissing him back softly. "I love you, Clint," she whispered against his lips. She let him lead their kiss, his tongue dominating hers in a slow sexy dance.

Clint slowly broke the kiss, moving so he was standing beside the bed. Natasha raised a confused eyebrow at him before squealing in surprise when he suddenly lifted her up princess style. "Clint!"

"I've more planned for you, Tasha," he whispered huskily in her ear. The red-head shivered at his words, wrapping her arms around his neck. He carried her out into the kitchen, placing her down on the kitchen table.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Clint when she noticed what else was on the table. "Clint?"

The archer smiled, gently pushing her down so she was laying down. "I told you that I wasn't going to let you out of the apartment," he replied as if that explained everything. "And I told you the first morning we spent together that I'd have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner when I could," he added, grabbing the silk ties he had placed on the table. He slowly tied Natasha's ankles and wrists to the table.

"Oh God," she moaned, figuring out what Clint was planning. Well, some of it.

"Mmmm?" he replied, taking the vibrator he had on the table. "You ready, Baby?" he asked as he took the bowl of fruit he'd prepared before Natasha woke up.

Natasha nodded, biting her bottom lip as she watched Clint decorate her stomach with slices of fruit. "Sir, is there anything you want me to do?" she asked, eyeing the items her fiancée brought carefully.

Clint hummed before nodding, walking to the top of the table. "You're not allowed move. Or come. Before I let you. Can you do that, Baby?"

Natasha nodded, panting as Clint placed strawberries on her tits. Then he moved back down to the apex of her legs. "What are the safewords, Miss Romanova?" he asked, trailing one hand along her slit.

"Red for stop, black for slow down," she replied, grinning at him as she bit down on her bottom lip. Her actions earned a deep groan from her lover.

Clint brought the vibrator to her sex, turning on to its second highest setting. He rubbed it along her slit, grinning when she moaned in reply. "Mmhmm. If you're a good girl, I'll let you come. If not. Well, I have a lot of patience," he narrated, his eyes locked on her face. He slowly leaned down and ran his tongue over her left breast, sucking the pieces of fruit off her nipple.

Natasha couldn't stop the gasp that tore through her lips, her eyes locked on Clint's as he teased her. He slowly ate the fruit off of her breasts while holding the vibrator against her but away from her clit. Each time he bit into a slice of fruit, he leisurely licked the juices off of her pale skin.

Clint kept his eyes on Natasha’s face as he pushed the vibrator harder against her cunt. The red-head threw her head back in pleasure as she tried to keep her body still, like he ordered her to. Her breathing was heavy, deep. She was fighting her on-coming orgasm, desperately hanging onto the edge.

And then the sensations suddenly stopped.

Her eyes shot open, finding Clint smirking at her knowingly. “Yes Natasha?” he teased, dragging his hands along the inside of her firm thighs. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Whatever you want, _Master_ ,” she replied, not wanting to lose their little game.

“Mmmm… I like that idea,” he stated as he sank down to his knees, his face in between her legs. “If you can hold out for an hour, I let you come. Do you think you can be a good girl for me and hold out for an hour while I eat your cunt out, Tasha?”

“Yes, _Sir_ ,” she replied, her eyes locked on his as he brought the vibrator teasingly over her clit. Gasping, she grounded out, “I can be a good girl.”

Clint smiled and grabbed the Ben Wa Balls that Natasha hadn’t noticed. Yet. “Mmmm. Such a good girl. You’re so wet for me, Baby,” he whispered before lubricating the small metallic instruments with his mouth. Once satisfied, he slowly inserted one finger inside Natasha to loosen her up for the toy. The twenty-seven-year-old grinned as he remembered the last time they used this particular set of toys.

Natasha focused on keeping her breathing level when she suddenly gasped at the sudden feeling of metal against her lower lips. “Clint.. Master, are you using the Ben Wa Balls?” she whispered, her voice lower and huskier than usual.

Clint grinned, pressing his lips to the inside of her right thigh, centimetres below her sex. “Yes. That also means if you can hold on, I’ll also give you an extra prize for being such a good girl,” he whispered, gently pushing the balls into place. “You know that if it gets too much, all you have to do is say one of the safewords, Natasha. I _want_ you to use the safewords when you need them. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Clint got back on his feet temporarily so he could capture her mouth in a filthy and dirty kiss. Natasha returned it, smiling against his lips before moaning at the feeling of the metallic balls moving inside her. Breaking the kiss, he smiled at the twenty-two-year-old as she closed her eyes and groaned at the sensations she was feeling. “Let’s see how much of a good girl you can be for me, shall we, Baby?”

Natasha grinned, opening her eyes to look at his handsome face and nodded. In reply, he returned to his spot between her legs…..

* * *

 

“Clint… Fuck… I… I can’t…. take much more…. Please. I need…. Need to come… Red… Please Clint…” Natasha begged, her body pulsating on the edge. He kept her edge for well over an hour now. He was constantly switching between eating her out, using the vibrator on her clit and fingering her. Getting her onto the edge before knocking off and letting her pleasure come back down to a slow dull throb. And then drive her to the edge all over again. He had long since finished eating all of the fruit off of her luscious pale skin.

Clint nodded, kissing her lower lips before hooking his fingers against her G-spot and the Balls. “Come for me, Natasha. Want you to come on my face and hands. Wanna here you scream for me too,” he murmured against her cunt.

Natasha’s back arched high off the table as she came hard, screaming her lover’s name as she came. Her walls fluttered and sprayed her juices out, making Clint grin as he lapped up his rewards.

He brought her down from her high, slowly and gently, worshipping her body lovingly. Once her breathing was back to a more average pace, he removed his fingers and turned off the vibrator. Gently, he kissed his way up her body to press his lips all over her face. He then untied her legs and arms from the table, massaging her joints that were slightly red because of her pulling on the silk. He, then, pressed soft kisses to her neck while he whispered to her, "Come on, Tasha. Gotta wake up. Come on, Baby."

Natasha moaned as she slowly opened her eyes, twisting towards Clint. She was grateful when it registered in her brain that her lover had untied her from the table. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his tanned skin.

Clint pressed soft kisses to the side of her head, lifting her up so he carry her to their bathroom. Slowly he placed her down on her feet before allowing her to enter the shower when he had it heated to _her_ preferred temperature. He ran his eyes over her pale curves before climbing in beside her. She immediately moved, lifting a hand up to his pulse point and rested her head on his chest. The archer wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

“Thank you, _Master_ ,” she purred against his chest, arching up into his touch when he dragged his hands over her body, appreciating every scar, curve and dimple on her skin. She closed her eyes as her lover massaged her back like he always did when they played.

“Happy birthday,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly while massaging her skin. “Will you let me wash you?” he asked, making Natasha chuckle lightly against the skin of his chest.

“Of course, Clint,” she whispered, moving back to let her lover grab her shower gel. The archer smiled at her before squirting a generous amount of the gel on his hands. He lathered up a good soap before slowly beginning to massage her body.

“You’re more like a cat than a spider, Tasha,” he noted, earning a raised eyebrow from the beautiful red-head. “You purr anytime I touch you when we’re alone,” he added, making Natasha grin cheekily at him.

“Mmmm. Your hands are _so good_ ,” she teased, her words laced with seduction and teasing.

Clint grinned, turning her around so he could get her back. He proceeded to grab her shampoo, massaging it into her scalp. She leaned back against him, frowning slightly when she felt him pulse against the small of her back. “Clint, you didn’t come, did you?”

“Mmmm. No. Why?” he replied, too busy in washing her hair. His actions were slightly hitched by his fiancée twisting her head to look at him.

“Clint…” she started but was cut off when he pressed his lips to hers.

“Your birthday. Your pleasure is my pleasure,” he whispered as he pulled away, massaging the shampoo into her luscious red hair. “Home is where the heart is, remember?”

Natasha smiled, returning to letting her lover finish washing her hair. “I remember. And love is where home is too,” she replied.

Once he was done washing her hair and rinsing the suds out, he brought one hand back down between her legs. Leisurely, he slipped two fingers inside her and caught the Ben Wa Balls. Natasha gasped in surprise at his actions, moaning as he slowly dragged the toy out of her. “Fuck. Clint,” she gasped, leaning back against him.

“Yes, Tasha?” he whispered, bringing the toy up to his lips and sucking her juices clean off the two pieces of metal.

Natasha moaned before turning in his arms, curling one hand behind his neck and bringing his lips down to hers. Their tongues met slowly, the red-head’s other hand resting over his heart. Clint brought his hands down over her ass to her thighs, easily lifting her up so they could kiss easily.

Clint reached behind Natasha, shutting off the shower as he stepped out. Never breaking the kiss, he grabbed two towels while Natasha wrapped her legs around his waist. Walking out to their bedroom, he set one towel on the bed before placing his lover down on top of it. Using the other towel, he quickly dried himself before beginning to dry Natasha, taking his time in running the terry cloth over her skin. The other towel wrapped around her hair, letting it dry somewhat.

Natasha watched as her Hawk slowly chased the droplets with the terry cloth. She gasped as he circled her nipples teasingly when he finished drying the rest of her body. Reaching for him, she whispered, “Clint, I want you to come inside me this time.”

Clint groaned at Natasha’s words and tossed the towels to the floor as he moved her up their bed so her head was resting on the pillows. Catching her lips in a soft kiss, he let her guide his cock inside her. They both gasped into the kiss as he filled her up. Natasha brought her hands to Clint’s allowing him to interlace their fingers together as they made love for the rest of the night…….


	18. Round Two - BlackHawk vs the Red Room Prologue

Clint threw the arrow head up in the air, catching it quickly just Natasha entered the room. She smirked as his bored look immediately faded, his eyes bright. "Hey Hawk. You look bored," she greeted, walking over to his desk and hoisting herself onto it.

"Not anymore," he replied, smirking as he placed his hands on her hips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on her lap. "How did your check-up go?" he whispered against the fabric of her tac-suit.

Natasha smiled at him softly. "Everything checked out. Clean too," she replied, smirking at him when he raised his head to look at her with an amused face.

"I should hope so," he joked, kissing the inside of her wrist when she raised her hand to trail her fingers through his hair. "Mmmm. What's going through your head?" he whispered, noticing the thinking look on his fiancé's face.

Natasha raised a questioning eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What?"

"Natasha," he growled when she nibbled on her bottom lip unconsciously – he often wondered if that was the reason her lips looked so full all of the time. "Don't make me punish you," he warned, his voice lower and huskier than usual.

Suddenly, Coulson entered their joint office, raising an eyebrow at the two. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, smirking as Natasha and Clint blushed slightly before schooling their emotions.

"What do you want, _mother_?" Clint retorted, raising an eyebrow at the suit.

"Job. Sao Paulo. Debrief. Now," Coulson stated before leaving. The two agents looked at each before Clint Natasha off the desk so they could follow their handler out of their office.

* * *

 "Shostalov has been found in one of his safe houses in Sao Paulo," Phil stated once the door shut behind the two assassins. "You two are being sent in. The _Red Guardian_ is to be terminated."

Natasha took a deep breath as she took a seat in front of Phil's desk. She glanced up at Clint when he placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly, sending her lover a grateful look.

"When do we leave?" Clint asked, knowing that his partner had multiple thoughts running through her head.

"In ten minutes," Phil replied, his eyes drawn to Natasha's distant body language. "Go get what you need. And suit up."

Clint nodded and gestured to Natasha who stiffly stood up. The red-head followed Clint to their on-base – technically, on file, it was hers but you know – her mind running a million miles an hour. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Clint closing the doors behind them. Or said man coming up behind her. She practically jumped when he put his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind.

"Tasha?"

"You know I have bad memories of Sao Paulo, Clint," she half-lied, not wanting to bring up what really came up during her usually yearly medical check-up.

"The chi-…"

"That wasn't you, Baby. Well, not really. The old _Black Widow._ Not. You," he told her. "And we'll get the bastard too. Don't worry," he added before pulling away. "Come on. Don't wanna piss them off more than we usually do," he joked.

Natasha nodded, following her fiancé out of their room. One thought crossed her mind as she recalled her check-up. 'How am I going to tell him?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?


	19. Round Two - BlackHawk vs the Red Room Part. 1

The red-head sighed as she sat down on the bed in her and Clint's shared motel room. She watched her partner check all the windows, making sure they had more than one exit route. She had already checked for any mics and cameras. She smirked at the archer when he returned to the bed, climbing in beside her. "You okay?" he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple lovingly.

"Want this over and done with as quickly as possible," Natasha replied, turning around so she could crawl into his arms, dropping her Agent Romanoff and _Black Widow_ façades that she had been wearing earlier at HQ and up until the moment she sat on the bed.

Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha's body, pulling her close to him. "So do I, мой паук," he whispered, burying his nose in her hair. He'd noticed that his fiancée had been tired lately. The past five weeks in fact. Slowly, he twisted around so Natasha was resting on her back. He'd made sure to pull the curtains when he was making exit strategies. "Do you want me to do anything?"

Natasha replied by bringing one hand up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. She brought her other hand up, resting it over his beating heart as their lips met in a slow dance. Clint balanced his weight on his elbows, resting his hands on either side of her head.

Slowly, Clint broke the kiss, moving his lips to press them against Natasha's temple. "What's going on in your head, Tasha?" he whispered, noticing the distant look in his lover's eyes.

"I…" she started, biting her bottom lip unconsciously, not knowing what to say. She didn't want to lie to him. But she also didn't want him to do a repeat of Paris either. "I don't want Alexei to take you away from me," she whispered. She wasn't lying. But she wasn't telling him the full truth either.

Clint nodded, leaning down and kissing her softly. "He's not going to take me away from you," he whispered against her lips.

Natasha nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "Make love to me," she whispered, wanting to feel her archer close to her.

"Always," he whispered, more than willing to show his lover just how much she meant to him…

* * *

Natasha smiled sleepily at Clint as he climbed out of the bed. "I'm gonna get us something to eat," he whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips to her hair. "Anything you want?"

"Tea," she replied, knowing coffee would only nauseate her. "And pastries," she added, smirking up at him lovingly.

Clint smiled in return. Nodding, he straightened, grabbing a clean change of clothes. "Sleep," he ordered, noticing that Natasha was worn out. "I'll be back in half an hour," he added, kissing her softly.

"Be careful," she told him, before allowing herself to fall into a light nap as he left the room.

* * *

 

Clint answered his phone after realising it was Phil. "Uncle Phil," he greeted in Portuguese, plastering a fake smile on his face as he was served his and Natasha's breakfast.

" _ **Has Natasha told you anything?"**_ Phil replied, surprising the archer with the concerned tone in the suit's voice.

"We're enjoying ourselves, Uncle."

" _ **Obviously not. Her medical check-up showed up something."**_

"How is Aunt Melinda?"

" _ **Clint, Natasha's pregnant."**_

Clint froze at Phil's words. 'What?!' he mentally shouted, not knowing what to think at the revelation. 'Why didn't she tell me?' "Are you sure?"

" _ **Yes. Eva did several tests. All of which said that Natasha is six weeks pregnant."**_

"Okay. I'll call you later," Clint replied, hanging up before his handler could say anything else. He had to have a talk with his fiancée….

* * *

Natasha's eyes shot opened as Clint entered their motel room, the archer carrying a brown bag and a tray with two cups. "You actually got pastries," she stated, sitting up and stretching, groaning when some of her bones cracked. Clint made no response as he walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and handing the bag to Natasha. The red-head raised an eyebrow at her lover, noticing the distant body language from the archer. "Clint?"

"When were you going to tell me?" he replied, twisting his body to look at her.

Natasha paused as realisation hit her. "Phil told you."

"Yeah, he did. But I thought that as your fiancée that it should've been you that told me that you're pregnant!" Clint snarled, standing up and running his hands over his face. "Why didn't you tell me, Natasha?!"

"I didn't know how!" she almost shouted at him, dropping the pastries' bag on the bed beside her. "I didn't exactly plan on getting pregnant now!"

"Natasha, we're getting married! Why wouldn't you tell me?!"

"Because I didn't want a repeat of Paris!" she shouted at him, making Clint stop in surprise. "You don't know how helpless and useless I felt when Phil dragged me onto that helicopter. When I woke up and found out that you had decided to go after those bastards on your own. I didn't know if I was going to lose you. And I hate feeling like that!"

Clint frowned, walking back over to the bed. Tears streamed down Natasha's face, her body shaking. He slowly climbed into bed beside her, taking her in his arms. She immediately curled into his embrace, burying her face in his neck. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she tried to control the tears running down her face. The archer ran a comforting hand along her spine, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she wrapped her arms around his back. "I didn't know that's how you felt, Tasha," he whispered when he felt her tears stop.

"How could you?" she whispered against the skin of his neck. "I never told you. You couldn't have known."

Clint pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm not getting rid of him," she replied immediately, surprising Clint with the quick answer.

"Never thought of that as an option, Tasha," Clint replied, making Natasha groan.

"I didn't mean abortion, Clint. I meant that I want to keep the baby. As ours," she confessed, making Clint pause.

"You wanna keep the baby?" he whispered, rolling them so he was hovering above her.

"Yes…" she started, not knowing how her fiancée would react.

Clint grinned, leaning down and kissing her deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist. Natasha gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his attack but quickly leaned into the kiss. She returned the hungry kiss, giggling at the obvious happiness in her future husband's actions.

When they both needed to breathe, Natasha broke the kiss, smiling up at him. "I'm guessing that you're happy," she whispered, her fingers playing with the stray strands of hair on the nape of his neck.

"Yes," he whispered, unable to wipe the grin off his face. "Wait, you think it's a boy?" he asked, surprise etching over his face.

Natasha smiled. "Yeah. I can picture a little boy, the mini picture of his father. Ears, nose, eyes, hair. All the same."

"Yeah. Well, I can picture a little girl. An exact carbon copy of her perfect and beautiful mother," Clint replied, leaning down and kissing her again.

"You keep talking like that and you're getting laid, Mr. Barton."

"Then I'll keep talking like that, future Mrs. Barton."

"Still keeping my surname…"

* * *

" _ **Barton, Romanoff, Shostakov is making his move… He's heading towards**_ _ **Hospital Infantil Menino Jesus**_ _ **. It's one of the children's hospitals in Sao Paulo."**_

Natasha and Clint quickly glanced at each other. "How does he know about Osaka?" the archer signed to the red-head, not wanting their handler to know.

"He was my handler for that mission," the twenty-two-year-old replied, making the archer stop and pause at the implications that sentence meant.

"Did he hurt you afterwards?" Clint eventually signed while changing into his tactical suit. Natasha didn't respond. She pulled up the zip on her cat suit. Clint walked over to her, placing his hands on her hips as she finished gearing up. "Tasha?" he whispered, waiting for her to reply.

"Yeah, he did. It's why I'm so afraid of needles, blindfolds and gags," she replied, closing her eyes in an attempt to rid herself of the memories that confession brought back.

Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist, pulling her back against him. "He's never going to hurt you again, Tasha. After tonight, he'll never have that chance again," he whispered in her ear.


	20. Round Two - BlackHawk vs the Red Room Part. 2

" _Widow_ , are you in position?"

" _Hawk_ , I'm in position. Do you have eyes on the target?"

"Yes. He's heading for the left back entrance to the hospital. No security watching him," _Hawkeye_ noted, his eyes narrowing as he watched two black SUV pull up at the same door. "We also have a new problem, _Widow_. More Red Room agents have arrived."

"Copy that, _Hawk_. How many?"

"Five men, three women. All armed with concealed machine guns. Wearing police uniform but speaking Russian."

"Meaning amateurs?"

"Yes. Amateurs."

"We need to find _Red Guardian_. And make sure that these amateurs don't hurt any civilians."

"Roger that, _Widow_. Meet you at point Alpha."

"Copy that, _Hawk._ Meet you in ten."

* * *

"Shit. Shit. Shit," _Hawkeye_ cursed, racing down the staircase as two Red Room agents followed him, shooting at him. 'Where the fuck did they come out of?' he thought to himself.

" _Hawkeye,_ what the fuck did you do?!" Natasha shouted over the comms. "I thought you said there was only eight more."

"There are another six posing as relatives of patients, Darlin'," he replied, twisting so he could return fire, two arrows lodging in two of the agents' chests. "No wonder you're such a good agent."

"Heard that, идиот."

"There's two coming your way."

"I'm setting off the fire alarm," she warned him, the archer clearly hearing the breaking of class over the comms. "Any visual on Shostakov?"

"None. Heading to the roof now. I've erased five threats. Be careful, _Widow._ "

"Always, _Hawk._ "

* * *

 _Hawkeye_ ducked under the broken vent as bullets rained down on him. He hissed as a bullet grazed his bare left shoulder.

'Who the fuck is shooting at me now?' the archer thought to himself, ducking as a machine gun opened fire.

His unspoken question was answered when he heard a voice sounded. "Come out, come out wherever you are, _Hawkeye_!" a male voice shouted as the gunshots stopped suddenly. "Come out, come out and play!"

"Sorry, _Guardian,_ but I don't swing both ways," the archer shouted in reply.

"I'm going to kill you, _Hawkeye!_ " the Russian roared, firing a few stray bullets at the archer. "Natalia belongs to me and me alone. I'm going to kill you and take her for myself. Get her pregnant with _my_ baby. And you won't be able to stop me."

"Natalia is dead, Shostakov. There's Natasha and the _Black Widow._ But no Natalia. She's been gone since I made a different call!" _Hawkeye_ shouted back, nothing a new arrow he had made the previous week. "Anyways, by tonight, you'll be a dead man!"

The archer quickly jumped up, shooting the arrow up in the direction of the Russian assassin and pressing a button on his quiver. The controlled EMP exploded suddenly, earning a loud scream of pain from the archer's target.

Then _Hawkeye_ ran towards the fallen Red Room agent. He brought his bow down on Shostakov's back, a sickening crack resounding over the roof.

Suddenly, a helicopter could be heard above them. _Hawkeye_ jumped out of the way as Red Room agents jumped out and ran towards them. The archer raced towards the fire escape, jumping down the stairs to evade his assailants.

" _Hawkeye_ respond," the _Black Widow_ shouted over the comms. "Where the fuck are you?"

"Coming down the fire escape on the north-west side. Contact Coulson. I'll meet you at the extraction point."

"I'm not leaving without you, Clint," Natasha replied, switching their comm links to a private line. "Please Clint. I'm not raising our child on my own."

"You're not going to, Tasha. But you're pregnant. And I'm not willing to put you or our baby in harm's way."

"And you think I will?!"

"No, of course I know that you would never do anything to hurt our baby. But I don't want the chance of losing either of you, Tasha."

"Clint, you're asking me to do a repeat of Paris," she whispered, her voice catching at the end.

"I'm not. But I am asking you to go to the extraction point and wait for me there. I'm not asking you to leave without me this time."

Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay," she whispered, although it wasn't what she wanted to say. "Don't do anything stupid, Barton."

Clint smiled weakly at her order. "Who said that I would?"

* * *

 _Hawkeye_ ran out of the hospital and towards the cul-de-sac across the road. He had lured _Red Guardian_ out of his hiding place and now had the bastard where he wanted him.

The archer climbed up part of the fire escape and hid in the shadows. He watched three agents along with Shostakov run into the alleyway, the _Guardian_ slightly off balance from the deafening EMP earlier on.

'Shit,' he thought to himself. He only had one more arrow. Not four. Biting his bottom lip, he switched his quiver to select an arrow head he had yet to test. An explosion arrowhead with EMPs loaded inside it as well.

'Forgive me, Tasha,' he thought before notching the arrow and aiming it in between Shostakov's eyes. Taking a deep breath he let go.

A loud explosion rang out, cancelling out all the agonised screams of torturous death.

And then the world went dark for the archer.

* * *

"Clint?!" Natasha screamed, watching in horror as the father of her unborn child collapsed onto the ground of the fire escape staircase...


	21. Miracle

Natasha was numb. She paid no attention to the noise outside the hospital room. She kept twisting her engagement ring on her finger while her right hand rested on her fiancée's hand.

The man in question was sleeping peacefully in his hospital bed. In a coma. His head wrapped in a clean white bandage as a result of the doctors needing to repair as much damage to his eardrums as was possible. They had told her that he'd lost almost eighty percent of his hearing. And was very lucky to still be alive.

"Have you even moved since he was brought back from surgery?" Barney asked, breaking her away from his thoughts.

Natasha shook her head. "No. Actually, yeah. I used the bathroom twice," she responded, her eyes focused on her fingers interlaced with Clint's.

Barney sighed, praying to whatever God that actually existed that his little brother would wake up soon. "Here, I got you tea," he told her, handing her the cup.

"Thanks," she whispered, grateful for the warm liquid. "There's been no change," she added, knowing what was going on in the older Barton's mind.

"He'll be okay, Natasha," Barney blurted out, making the red-head look at him with surprised expression. "He's a Barton, he'll be okay." The thirty-three-year-old offered his brother's fiancée a weak smile. It's all he could do for the moment.

Natasha tried to return his smile. But she was unsuccessful. Resting one hand on her still flat stomach, she nodded. "For the baby's sake, he better be."

* * *

Coulson entered the room, finding Natasha curled up in her chair, sleeping. The suit sighed in relief; the red-head had been worrying non-stop since they arrived back from Sao Paulo.

"She's been asleep for the past twenty minutes," Barney informed him, the suit turning to look at the older Barton. "Reluctantly, she fell asleep. But I think that it'll help her."

"The doctors said that they're happy with the brain scans. He's making more progress than they thought. They have high hopes now," Phil started, earning a relieved sigh from Barney.

"Oh, thank fuck. I am still going to kill him when he wakes up. What was he thinking, using that fucking sonic arrowhead?" Barney ranted, rubbing his hands over his face.

"That he wouldn't be putting his fiancée or unborn child in harm's way," the suit replied, watching the couple in front of them carefully. "He doesn't want to become your father. So he risked his life to make sure Natasha had a way to escape."

"And look what it's done to  _her_. He's been in the coma for almost three weeks. Christmas is next week. And she hasn't left his side once. She barely sleeps. And when she does, she has nightmares. She's breaking at the seems because she thinks she's gonna lose him," Barney stated, his observation not lost on his brother's handler.

"All we can do at the moment is be there for her. The rest is up to Clint."

* * *

Natasha kept her eyes focused on the bare tree outside the window. The rain pounded down outside, the miserable weather suiting her mood at that moment. She sighed and twisted her head to look at her lover. Christmas Day and he still wasn't awake. Five weeks since the  _'incident'_ \- as she had been referring to it. She hadn't good memories of Sao Paulo as it was, but Clint's accident just pushed it over the edge.

Thankfully, Clint had been taken off the ventilator and had it replaced with a oxygen mask instead. A sure sign of his health improving.

She was lying in the bed beside him. They had quickly learned that, even in his unconscious form, Clint preferred it when Natasha was in the room with him. His heart rate would sky rocket if she was gone for longer than ten minutes. As if the archer was afraid that she would be hurt if she wasn't with him.

The rain continued to pour down. The red-head began to wonder where her future brother-in-law was before something caught her attention. But she was almost sure she was imagining things.

She could swear she had felt Clint's hand tightening around hers. She waited a few minutes before it happened again. And she knew that she wasn't imagining things.

"Clint?" she whispered, sitting up and stroking his face gently. "Come on, Baby, open your eyes for me," she basically begged, the pet-name slipping out. He grunted a reply, making Natasha grin. "I know I'm being bossy and that you can't hear me properly, but please wake up. I need you. Our baby needs you. Please."

Clint slowly blinked his eyes open, flinching at the bright lights of the room. And he was immediately aware of two things: one, he could hear fuck all except a low buzzing noise and two, Natasha was beside him, murmuring - he couldn't hear her. " 'Tasha?" he tried, his voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

Natasha practically sobbed in relief. "Yes, I'm here, Clint," she whispered, stroking his face lovingly. "мой ястреб, I'm here."

Clint brought one hand up to touch Natasha's face, his thumb brushing away the single tear of relief she'd let fall. "Hey Beautiful, " he murmured, pulling his mask off to speak clearly. "How are you and our baby?"

"We're fine," she replied, touching his jaw lovingly. And then she thought better. "The baby and I are fine," she signed, smiling at him when he grinned. "You, on the other hand, are not."

"I'm going to guess and say that the stupid arrowhead I used is the reason that I can't hear you," he replied, watching Natasha carefully. She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"You're deaf, Clint. You've lost just over eighty percent of your hearing," she signed, deciding that it was best to just be blunt about it. She watched her fiancée process the new information. His face fell as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself.

Clint sat up and pulled Natasha into his lap, the red-head straddling his thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his face in between her breasts, breathing in her scent to calm himself.

* * *

Natasha sighed as she waited for Barney and Clint to stop bickering through sign language. Ever since her fiancée had woken up, they'd had very little time to talk about what had happened. Although her future brother-in-law had easily given out enough to his brother for the both of them.

She caught Clint's eyes as he looked at her, obviously exhausted and seeking her help. "Barney, stop. He's had enough lecturing for today," she ordered, making said man look at her surprised.

"But..." he started but was interrupted by the red-head.

"I'm just over three months pregnant, Barney," she started, raising an eyebrow at him. "Do you really want to argue with me?"

Barney gulped in reply, shaking his head. Clint chuckled; he was able to lipread and he was finding the situation in-front of him hilarious.

"I'll let you both get some rest," Barney murmured, leaving the couple alone as night fell.

"I didn't get you a Christmas present, Nat," Clint murmured, turning his head to look at her. "Sorry."

Natasha smiled at her weakly before standing up and walking over to him. "It's fine, Clint," she signed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You being awake and alive is enough of a present for me. And a miracle."

Clint couldn't take it anymore. He finally had her alone and he couldn't wait any longer. Sitting up, he pulled Natasha into his lap for the second time that day. But this time, he claimed her lips, kissing her hungrily. He may be deaf now, but that didn't affect his other functions.

Natasha was surprised by the suddenness of their make-out session. Not that she really minded. She was careful with his bruised ribs, tracing her fingers over the small beard that resided on Clint's face. She loved the sensation of his stubble but she wasn't a big fan of a full beard on him.

"I love you, Tasha," he whispered into her mouth, holding her close to his body. "I love you so much."

Natasha pulled away, resting her forehead against his, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. 'Stupid hormones,' she thought, even though she knew that it was a built-up combination of fear, hormones and stress from the past five weeks. "I love you," she signed, placing it against his chest, just above his heart.

Clint smiled, and placed one hand on her stomach. It wasn't obvious to anyone other than the two of them. The only two people who knew her body like the back of their hands. But there was a beginning of a small bump beginning to show. Where  _their_ baby was growing.

"Our baby's a miracle too, Tasha," he whispered, smiling at her when she placed her hand on his.

"Like his father," she mouthed, giving him enough time to lipread.

"Still think it's a boy?" he whispered, grinning at her when she nodded. "Well, I still think it's a girl."

"Well, we'll just have to see," she signed, smiling at her Hawk lovingly, thanking whatever God that actually existed that her fiancée was still alive and with her.


	22. Adjusting

Natasha helped Clint enter their off-base apartment. He was leaning on her, his balance completely thrown as he adjusted to his newly implanted hearing aids. He'd been relieved when they were told that it was possible for him to regain his hearing through new tech, obtained from Stark Industries. It'd had been just over a month since he woke up. And he was more than grateful to be able to hear again.

"How long do we have off?" Clint asked, once the door shut behind them.

"Fury's putting me on  _'deep undercover op_ ' and you are on official medical leave. He's not letting anyone but whoever we tell, that I'm pregnant," Natasha replied, helping him over to the couch. "Why?"

"I wanna get out of New York for a while. Get away from everything and everyone but you," Clint responded, sighing in relief as he finally got to sit down. "Can we do that?"

Natasha sat down beside him, stroking the side of his head lovingly. "Anything you want. But where can we go that S.H.I.E.L.D. can't find us?"

"I've got this place we can go. Other than Barney, no one knows about it. We can go there."

"What will Coulson and Fury do if there's an emergency and they need us?"

"Coulson will contact Barney and Barney will know where to find us."

"Okay. When do you want to leave?"

"Right now."

* * *

Just over three hours later, they were in Waverly, Iowa. She was following Clint's directions as she drove to the outskirts of the town, away from civilisation. She glanced around her surroundings, the majority of the trees bare in the winter months.

"Take the next right. We're going off road now," Clint directed, his body more relaxed after he got off the second plane they'd boarded. "It's isolated. Nobody comes near here. Except for those who work here but they don't come to the house. Unless it's to stock up the fridge."

"You still haven't told where  _here_  is, Clint," Natasha replied, smirking at him when he raised an eyebrow at her.

" _Here_ is my family home," Clint replied, making Natasha's smirk fall and make her pause in surprise. "And since you're my family now, it belongs to you too."

"What about Barney?"

"He got our Grandparents' getaway place in the Rocky Mountains. He prefers disappearing there."

Natasha nodded, not knowing what else she could say. About five minutes later, they arrived at the front of the house. It was a two storey. A front porch. And surrounded by acres of coniferous trees. "Wow," she whispered, surprised by the beauty of the area.

"Yeah, it has the effect," Clint replied, smiling at the amazed look on his fiancée's face. If only it had that effect on. "Come on, let's go inside. I can show you around. Get the fire started."

"You're not supposed to be doing much. Letting you on two aeroplanes was bad enough," Natasha stated, almost glaring at him.

"I just wanted to get away from the shit that always comes with SHIELD. And spend time with my pregnant fiancée. Is that hard to ask for?" Clint replied calmly, watching as Natasha schooled her automatic flinch.

"And I don't want to have a repeat of those five weeks," she replied, getting out of the truck before he could say anything. She walked to the passenger side and helping him out.

Clint stopped her from moving any further, pecking her lips lovingly. "I love you, Natasha," he whispered against her lips.

Natasha nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. "I love you too, Clint," she whispered, pulling away so she could help him into the house.

* * *

"I feel pathetic, Tasha," Clint stated, making Natasha look up from where she had been starting the fire.

"You're not," she replied, standing up and walking over to him. "You just need to get used to the hearing aids. It's normal."

"But..." he started, interrupting himself as Natasha climbed into his lap. She held his face between her hands, kissing his eyelids, cheeks, jaw, forehead, everywhere she could touch.

"You're not pathetic, Мой Ястреб," she continued, letting one hand trail to her lover's hair, the other trailing down to her stomach. "You're my fiancée. The father of my child. The only one I've ever trusted. You're not pathetic. You're the bravest and most caring man I know," she added as she felt him trace circles on her unnoticeable bump. "And besides, I wouldn't let you dominate me in the bedroom either if you were," she purred in his ear, knowing that his lack of what many would consider male pride the man reason for this show of vulnerability. But she knew that it wasn't. It was the sense of helplessness. The feeling that he couldn't have her back and protect her, even though she was very capable of protecting herself. It made him sleep better, knowing he could keep her safe.

"Tasha, don't tempt me," he warned, his voice husky with desire. Yes, he wanted her but he didn't want to force her into something if she didn't want it.

"I haven't had you inside me for over two months, Мой Ястреб," she whispered seductively into his ear. "I think I can safely say that I'm more than willing to have reassurance that you're still alive."

"You treading on dangerous grounds, Miss Romanova," he whispered huskily. He dragged her closer to him, his hands gripping her hips possessively.

"Then punish me,  _Master,_ " she purred, grinning at him knowingly.

He growled in reply, watching her pupils dilate in desire for him. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her ear. "Put two blankets on the floor. Away from the fire but close enough to it," he ordered, smirking when she shivered in his arms at the huskiness of his voice.

"Yes,  _sir_ ," she replied, climbing off of him so she could do as she was told, purposely throwing seductive glances over her shoulder just to tease him. Punishment for scaring the shit out of her when he was in the coma. Once the blankets were placed on the floor where Clint thought they should go, she turned back to him, waiting for his next command.

"Strip for me, Baby. Slowly. I want to savor every inch of you," he commanded, grinning at her when she slowly began to do as she was told.

"Like this?" she replied, slowly undoing the buttons of his plaid shirt that she was wearing. Slowly, she revealed the lacy bra she was wearing underneath, smirking as she watched his breath hitch.

"You were planning on seducing me, weren't you, Miss Romanova?" he asked, stripping himself of his own shirt quickly, not wanting to miss the seductive show she was giving him.

"Maybe,  _sir,_  but I don't think that that's important anymore," she replied, smirking when he growled at her. "Shall I continue,  _Sir?_ "

"Don't stop, until you're naked," Clint ordered, groaning in approval as she turned around and bending over, making a show of pulling her jeans and lace panties over her hips. "Mmmm. You look good doing that, Tasha," he told her, smiling at her when she twisted her head to smirk at him smugly.

"Mmmm...  _Master_ , I hope it is. Tell me what else you want?"

Instead of replying with words, Clint stood up. Fueled by the adrenaline pumping through his body, he made his way over to his fiancée, cupping her cheeks. "I love you, " he whispered, pecking her lips before resuming his dominant façade.

Natasha's breathing grew deeper as Clint trailed his hands over her body. His eyes took in every little possible detail about her. She was practically panting by the time he began to palm her breasts. And she was extremely sensitive there.

"Mmmm. You like that, don't you, Natasha?" he teased, grinning when she purred and leaned into his touch. "You're like a cat, Tasha. You gonna be a good kitty cat for me?" he teased, grinning at her teasingly.

Natasha nodded, not trusting her voice as she heard Clint's pants and boxers hit the floor. She willingly leaned back into his touch, smiling as he wrapped himself around her protectively.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week," he whispered in her ear, smiling when she moaned in agreement. "I gonna have to tie you up later and have my way with you too. But now, I gotta have you like this."

They both were standing upright, facing the same direction. With Clint behind Natasha. He reached between her, not letting her part her legs far, testing just how wet she was for him. Then he slowly slid inside her, bending his knees slightly to penetrate her. "Oh God," Natasha moaned, tossing her head back.

"Mmmm. You're so tight, Baby," he whispered in her ear, grinning as he nibbled her earlobe. "So wet for me, Tasha. Wanna feel you like this all the time."

Natasha replied by pushing herself back onto her man as he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her nails digging into his ass and pulling him into her further as he moved. Making their position even more intimate, she leaned her head backwards so that it was resting on his shoulder, allowing him to kiss her anywhere from the neck up.

"I've missed this," she confessed, gasping as Clint wrapped his arms possessively around her waist. His actions allowed for him to thrust deeper inside her. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Never gonna," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. His hands cupped her small, barely-there, bump. "But I wanna see your face when you come for me," he informed her, pulling out of her and earning a moan of disapproval from his fiancée.

Slowly, he laid her down on the blankets, taking her legs over his elbows and taking his time sliding back inside her. She gasped into his mouth when he kissed her, slowly moving inside her.

"Clint," she moaned, bringing one hand up to the back if his head, trailing her fingers through his unruly spiky hair. She brought her other hand to his chest, placing it against his rapidly beating heart. A sure sign he was still alive. "Oh God, yes," she groaned tossing her head back and giving him access to mark her clavicle and neck.

"You gonna come for me, Tasha?" he whispered in her ear as he nibbled teasingly on the spot just behind her ear. "I can feel you getting closer, Baby."

"Mmmm I want you to make me come on your big, fat cock," she moaned, wrapping her thighs around his ribs and crossing her ankles on his upper back. "Please. Clint. Мой Ястреб. Mой Xозяин. Make me come for you," she purred into his ear, nibbling on his earlobe.

Clint grunted in reply, reaching between them, pinching and rubbing her clit until the only thing she could say was his name. "Wanna feel you come around me, Tasha," he murmured in her ear, pressing soft kisses to her pale neck. "Come for me."

Natasha kissed him hungrily as she came hard around him, shouting his name into his mouth. Clint followed straight after her, thrusting inside her a few more times before collapsing on top of her.

* * *

 Natasha smiled as Clint rolled them over. She laid her head down on his chest, gazing at the warm blaze of the fire. She continued to smile as her fiancée pulled the spare blanket over their bodies.

"Feeling better?" she whispered against the skin of his chest, smiling.

"Being with you does that anyway," he murmured, kissing her forehead lovingly. "But everything just needs adjusting," he added, answering Natasha's other unspoken question.

"Together," she replied, smiling against his chest when he nodded.

"Together."


	23. Brotherly Advice

Natasha groaned as she heard someone banging on the front door. Clint was dead to the world, sleeping peacefully with his arms wrapped around her waist. He had his hidden hearing aids turned off, trusting his fiancée to wake him if there was anything seriously wrong.

She slowly climbed from beneath his arms, pecking his neck softly when he groaned in sleepy disapproval. Her touch immediately soothed him, the archer rolling over and burying his face in her pillow. She grabbed one of his discarded shirts from the ground, pulled it over her head before grabbing one of her pistols from beneath her pillow.

She, quickly but quietly, made her way down the stairs. They weren't expecting anyone. And since the only other person who knew about the farm was… Then it clicked for her.

Barney.

She checked the peephole before flinging the door open. "I thought we told you to tell us if you were coming," the red-head greeted, glaring amusedly at the thirty-three-year-old when he gulped nervously.

"I brought stuff for the nursery," he offered in reply, surprising his brother's fiancée.

Natasha allowed him inside, shaking her head as she followed the older archer inside. They made their way to the kitchen, the red-head raising an eyebrow at him when he smirked at her knowingly.

"What?"

"Did I interrupt something?"

Natasha shot him the bird along with a glare. "Did you really say that to a six month pregnant assassin?"

Barney paled and was about to apologise when a visceral scream of torment ran through the house.

Natasha was the first to move between her and Barney. She ran up the stairs to the main bedroom. Clint was twisting in the bed, sweating heavily and moaning in obvious distress. She made her way over to him, signalling to Barney to leave the room. She was the only one who Clint wouldn't lash out at, her touch the only thing that would soothe him.

"Clint, Мой Ястреб, wake up. You're having a nightmare." She spoke calmly even though she was far from it on the inside. She placed one hand on his chest, knowing her fiancée needed it to wake up, while her other turned on his hearing aids. "Please Clint. Wake up."

Clint sat up abruptly, panting heavily. His eyes were wide and glazed, his mind clearly still filled with sleep.

Natasha placed her hands on his face, guiding him to look at her. She leaned her forehead against Clint's, whispering reassurances that she was there. With him. She moved so she was straddling his thighs, her eyes never leaving his.

Clint wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. Well as close as they could with her baby bump between them.

They sat there until Clint was no longer shaking in her arms. She gently stroked her hands through his sweaty hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He brought his hands to her baby bump, rubbing random patterns with his thumbs. The archer ducked his head into the crook of his fiancée's neck, pressing his lips to her pulse point.

"What was your nightmare about?" she whispered as Clint kissed along her neck as if assuring himself that she was still there with him. Clint froze at her question, stopping his movements.

"You left with the baby," he whispered hoarsely against her skin, making it Natasha's turn to stop in surprise.

"I'm still here, Clint. I told you that I'd never leave you. I'm never gonna take our baby away from you," she whispered, lifting his head so they were looking into each other's' eyes. "I'm not raising  _our_  baby without you."

Desire coursed through Clint's veins, leading to him claiming Natasha's lips hungrily. He kissed her deeply. Passionately. Possessively. One hand cupped the back of her neck while the other rested on the small of her back. Her hands stayed buried in his hair, kissing him back with the same desperation.

Suddenly, she pulled away from his lips. "As much as I would love to have morning sex with you, we can't. Your brother's downstairs," she informed him, giggling when he pouted. "I promise something special in our  _private room_  tonight," she added with a seductive grin. "Barney won't hear us. And I'll be a good girl,  _Master_."

Clint growled in approval, grapping her ass and pulling her closer. "Minx. You're a minx," he groaned, biting her bottom lip playfully. "I'll make sure I get what I want tonight."

Since they had moved out here for the pregnancy and Clint's recovery, they had changed one of the rooms into a playroom. For their  _extra activities_ , Clint used an alias account to order extra furniture and toys, ordering them in complete discrete packaging. Over the past six weeks, they'd made good use of the room. Soundproofed so that when the baby was born – and a few months old – they'd be able to have their time alone so not to wake their child.

"Always," Natasha promised, climbing off of him and walking over to the walk-in wardrobe, returning with a well-worn pair of sweatpants and panties for herself and boxers and sweatpants for Clint. "Get dressed. I don't think Barney would appreciate his little brother walking around, naked."

"My house. If it bothers him so much, he can fuck off," Clint replied as he climbed out of the bed, dressing quickly before appreciating Natasha in his shirt as she put on her underwear and pants. "I'll need to buy more shirts if you keep stealing them, Tasha," he informed her with a smug grin before growling when she pouted and bit her bottom lip.

She closed the distance between them, pecking his lips before taking his hand in hers and guiding him out of the room and down to the kitchen. They found Barney in the kitchen, sitting at the table, his fee bouncing nervously on the floor. He quickly looked up at the couple as they entered the room, relief obvious on his face when he saw that his little brother was up, no evidence of whatever nightmare the younger Barton had had present.

"Damnit, Clint. Didn't know you were a minuteman," Barney teased, opting to not mention the nightmare until the twenty-eight-year-old did.

Clint immediately glared at his brother. "Charles, I'm not you. At least, I please my woman."

Natasha swotted at Clint's arm, fighting back a blush, and walked over to the kettle. She turned around and leaned against the counter as the two brothers greeted each other properly. She smiled as she watched the two interact, resting her hands on her baby bump. She had begun to feel more movement lately, something the doctor said was common in the twenty-sixth week of pregnancy.

Natasha was suddenly brought out of his thoughts when Clint walked over to her, placing his hands on her bump just as the baby kicked hard. She gasped, guiding her fiancée's hands to where the baby was moving. They grinned happily at each other, the archer leaning forward and kissing her lovingly.

"Thank you," he whispered in Russian, unable to wipe the proud grin off his face.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling back happily at her Hawk, both forgetting that Barney was in the same room as them.

Barney kept quiet as he watched the expectant couple, smiling at the happiness radiating from the both of them. They had decided that Phil would be Godfather and Maria would be Godmother. This time…

* * *

"So where are we putting these?" Barney asked as he helped Clint carry in the nursery furniture. Maria, Phil, Melinda and Fury had all sent presents with the oldest Barton. All of which neither Natasha nor Clint had been expecting.

"Third right up the stairs," Clint replied, smirking as his older brother followed his directions.

"So…. What's it like to be here twenty-four seven?" Barney asked as they placed the crib down. They assembled it downstairs, making Natasha laugh at them when they eventually gave up and used the instructions.

"It's… alright. I had renovated it a couple of months before Natasha and I got together. So it has very little resemblance to what it used to be," Clint replied, smiling weakly at his brother. "Natasha makes it easier. You know? By just being here with me. It's like a clean slate."

"She is your clean slate, Bro," Barney responded, making his little brother raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't mean it by saying Natasha's an object of your property. But she makes you smile. Like really smile. You're a better person around her. And you let her touch you. She's the first person to touch you without you losing it."

"I had a nightmare that she'd leave with the baby," Clint suddenly confessed, making his older brother pause in surprise at his words. "I dreamt that she grew sick and tired of me. And she left me," he continued, turning to look at Barney, "Just before the baby was born. I'm not good enough for her, Barn. She deserves someone the same age as her. Not someone six years her senior. But I'm… I'm selfish. I can't stand the thought of her with anyone else. I spend most nights just watching her sleep, wondering how the fuck I got so lucky."

"Stop selling yourself short, Clint. You always think the worst about yourself unless it's a fact. Natasha needs you as much as you need her. I see it every time I see you two together. You both smile more when you're together. She only relaxes when you're beside her. If you want to know how much she loves you, I'll tell you everything from the five weeks you were in the coma."

"What do you mean?"

"She barely left your side, Clint. She could barely eat, although I'm sure the morning sickness didn't help it either. When she slept, she would wake up screaming. She'd have nightmares of losing you. And to add to that your heart rate would sky rocket if Natasha was away from you for longer than ten minutes. As if you were afraid that she would be hurt if she wasn't with you."

Clint leaned against the window sill, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the window. "She didn't tell me that," he whispered, low enough but Barney could still hear him.

"Because she doesn't want to relive it. She was so scared of losing you. It's very obvious that she's in love with you, Clint. And you her. If you keep living with the fear of becoming our father, you're gonna miss precious time that you could be giving to Natasha. You need to forget about our father. Natasha and  _your_  kid are more important than that bastard."

Clint nodded, twisting his head to smile – genuinely smile – at his brother. "Thanks Barn. I needed to hear that."

"No problem. Just make sure that I can't hear you and Natasha tonight. Phil's told me that you and the Black Widow are far from quiet."

Clint glared at his brother, mentally making a note to kill his handler.

But little did either Barton know that Natasha heard everything they had said to each other.

* * *

Natasha was in the bedroom, reading an old novel she had read twice before. Barney had headed out to town to see his girlfriend – that surprised both Clint and Natasha – and Clint was finishing off washing the dishes. She was about to start the next chapter when her fiancée entered their room, smiling at her when she raised her head and grinned at him in greeting.

Clint made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He kissed her softly, taking the book from her hands and placing it on her bedside locker. "I was reading that," she mumbled into his mouth even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

"I was thinking of something more productive," he replied, hooking one arm under her legs and the other at the small of her back. He lifted her up, smiling into the kiss as he carried her into their extra room. He'd closed it off on the landing and instead made the room accessible through their bedroom. As to make sure no prying eyes would interrupt them.

Natasha giggled against his lips and nodded, curling into his body and letting him do as he wanted. She had promised to be a good girl after all.

Clint gently lay her down on the Tantra Chair, grinning when she raised an eyebrow at him. "Strip," he ordered before walking over to the chest of draws, opening it and grabbing a bottle of massage oil.

Natasha smirked at him and did as she was told. She flicked her thong at him, noticing how his eyes darkened at the sight of her pregnant body. Unlike many stories from other women online, she found that she liked her pregnant body. Yes, she missed her usual exercise but she enjoyed the way Clint looked at her more. Like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Clint dropped to his knees when he reached her, slipping off his pants and boxers as he did so. He pressed his lips to her baby bump, smiling up at her lovingly. "You're so beautiful carrying my baby, Tasha," he whispered softly. He'd been saying that a lot, especially since she started showing. Even though he couldn't wait until their baby was born, he appreciated the sight of Natasha pregnant with his child. His inner caveman desires coming out more often at the sight of her pregnant, particularly when she was wearing his clothes.

He poured a generous amount of oil on his hands and began to massage Natasha's sensitive breasts. She moaned at the touch but didn't reach for him. She knew what he wanted. And who was she to deny him. He moved so he could kiss her softly, his hands never leaving her skin as he massaged the oil into her soft skin.

They continued to kiss softly as Clint oiled her up and massaged her, never really breaking apart only to catch their breath. Slowly, Natasha reached for the bottle of oil, pouring some of it on her hands and reaching for Clint's body. He grinned against her lips, letting her return the favour of oiling up his body.

Slowly, he reached in between her legs and slid two fingers inside her, grinning into her mouth as she gasped and pulled him tighter to her body. He teased her for ages, hooking his fingers against her G-spot before relaxing and then repeating the actions all over again.

Natasha was tethering on the edge of ecstasy before Clint suddenly pulled away. "Stand up," he ordered softly, although his tone was, what the red-head had come to affectionately call, his  _Dom_  voice. She nodded and did as he instructed. He took her place on the chair, lying back so the higher end of the chair was against his back and he was comfortable, before taking her hand and guiding her to straddle his lap.

She moved so her knees were bent and open against Clint's chest, her feet braced against the seat of the chair, near his hips. She knew this position well. It was one of their favourite since her baby bump had begun to get in the way of their other favourites.

Clint gently grabbed her hips, sliding his hands along her thighs, helping her position herself above his length. She rested her hands against his shoulders, leaning forward and kissing her softly as she sunk down on him. They both moaned in pleasure at the sensation, the massage oil giving them easier access to rock together.

Clint brought his hands to her ass, smiling into the kiss when she gasped. He used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, all-the-while pulling her closer to him. She moaned and brought her hands to his hair, her fingers scraping over his scalp, making him groan appreciatively

Clint moaned as Natasha began moving up and down along his shaft, the red-head squeezing her walls around him as she moved. Their bodies slid against each other smoothly, the advantage of massage oil.

Suddenly, Clint brought one hand up and flicked his thumb over her left nipple. And that was all she needed to send her over the edge. She threw her head back and screamed his name, sobbing out her pleasure.

Her fluttering walls brought him to completion, bellowing her name as he came in long, warm spurts inside her. She fell against him as they recovered from their orgasms. Clint had one arm wrapped around her back, the other resting on her baby bump. "Love you, Tasha," he whispered when he regained his voice. He kissed her softly, lovingly but desperately at the same time.

"I'm yours, Clint," she whispered, remembering the conversation she overheard earlier that day. "I'm all yours. Nobody else will ever have me. I'm yours only."

Clint growled appreciatively and kissed her again. And then some….

* * *

Afterwards – and a few multiple positions later – they were lying in bed, Natasha on her side and curled into Clint. He was curled around her protectively. Her head was nestled on his chest, her fingers tracing over his childhood scars.

"You know that you're the only person I could ever picture myself with?" she whispered against his chest, surprising him as he ran his fingers through her freshly washed hair.

"You heard me and Barney," he whispered, smiling softly as he pressed his lips to her temple.

Natasha nodded, lifting her head to look him in the eye. "You are more than good enough for me, Clint. You're going to be an amazing father. Husband. Being my best friend and partner only makes it better. It's me who doesn't deserve you," she whispered, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the cigar burns on his chest. "But I'm willing to spend the rest of my days proving to myself that I am."

Clint rolled them so they were both side by side while keeping her close to his body. "You'll always be deserving of me, Tasha…."


	24. Favours

Clint smirked as he watched Natasha sleep, the red-head lying on her side. He was resting on his right side, trailing his left hand over her body, his hand coming to rest on her baby bump. The archer smiled at his fiancée softly, the twenty-two-year-old moving closer to his touch in her sleep. He moved slowly so he could press his lips to her stomach before climbing out of bed, leaving her to rest.

The archer threw on a pair of sleeping pants before quietly leaving the room, making his way down to the kitchen. He found his brother already there, a pot of coffee already brewing. The older of the two smirked at Clint, noticing how his little brother had multiple hickeys all over his neck and chest.

"Little Hawk, I only heard you two once last night. And yet, you're covered with all those hickeys," Barney teased, earning a glare from the twenty-eight-year-old.

Clint decided to ignore his older brother's comment, instead turning the kettle on after deciding to make Natasha breakfast-in-bed. "What time did you get in at?" he finally asked, turning on the hob, placing the saucepan on it and cracking three eggs to fry.

"Around one this morning. Ashley has work so it was better for me to let her get some sleep. And before you crack any jokes, Ashley is different from the other girls I've dated in the past."

"Wasn't going to. When are we gonna meet her?"

"She has Thursday off. I'll ask her tonight."

"Okay. Have you had breakfast, Barn?"

"You know I can only cook cereal and toast…"

"You don't cook cereal. You pour cereal in a bowl. Add fruit if you want. Or anything you want. And usually add milk. Not that complicated."

"Stop being a smartass."

"No… I'm just telling you the difference between something you cook and cereal," Clint stated with a smirk. He'd decided that he would make Natasha an omelette since the red-head was craving eggs lately. He placed it neatly on the plate before grabbing a tray, glass and cup, retrieving the orange juice from the fridge. "If you want to wait half an hour, I'll fry something up some stuff for us," he offered as an afterthought as he got a knife and fork from the drawer just as the kettle went off. "And if you make any crack jokes, I'll throw you on your ass," he added as he made Natasha the herbal tea she had come to love.

"Go look after your family, Little Hawk. I'm gonna go for a shower."

"Good. You need one."

* * *

Natasha groaned as she slowly woke up, stretching out her hand, searching for her fiancée only to be greeted with warm but empty sheets. She slowly moved so she was lying on her back. She could smell food and coffee. And her tea. 'Breakfast in bed,' she thought with a grin, just as the door opened, revealing her Hawk carrying a tray.

"Morning, Моя Паук," he greeted, returning her smile as she sat up, stretching as she grabbed her night shirt and pulled it over her head.

"Morning," she replied, smiling at him as he walked over to the bed. She smirked at him appreciatively when she noticed all the love bites she had left on his body – and she knew he left twice as much on hers.

Clint placed the tray on Natasha's bedside locker before climbing into the space behind her, pulling her into his lap. Once they were both comfortable, he placed the tray on hers.

"Mmmm, Мой Ястреб," she hummed as she looked down at the food her fiancée had prepared for her. "You are the best," she added before digging into the food.

The archer chuckled and pressed his lips to the back of her head, his hands resting on her baby bump, rubbing small circles there. His grin widened when he felt the baby kicking against his hands. He would never get used to that feeling.

"Your son is very active this morning," Natasha commented in between bites, moaning appreciatively as her fiancée kissed and sucked on the skin of her neck after having moved her hair over her other shoulder.

"Still think it's a boy?" he asked, kissing along her pulse point. "Why?"

"I don't know. Maternal instinct, I guess? I keep having dreams of a little boy. With grey-green eyes. Brownish hair with red tinted through it. Maybe that's why," she replied, leaning back into his touch.

Clint hummed in her ear, thinking about what his fiancée had just told him. "How many kids do you want?" he whispered, nuzzling her neck lovingly.

Natasha paused and crossed her knife and fork on her plate, thinking about it just as the baby moved inside her. "I think… yeah. I would. Maybe, at least, one of each," she eventually replied, twisting her neck to look at him. "But I'm scared," she admitted, pressing her lips to his cheek lovingly.

"So am I," he whispered, running his left hand over her baby bump soothingly. "But I know that I will always do what I can to keep our family safe," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, pecking her nose softly.

Natasha nodded, closing her eyes and taking in her partner's presence. And the quiet moment they were having. After the baby was born, who knew when they'd have the chance to have a quiet moment again **...**

* * *

"So, the rules?" Barney asked as he and Clint stood in front of the house where they had set up different targets. Natasha was sitting on a comfortable chair on the front porch, watching the two brothers. Clint had made the chair three weeks ago – who knew he was any good at carpentry?

"Most bulls-eyes wins. If it comes down to it… well, Tasha can choose," Clint replied, turning to look at said woman who was sitting comfortably with Lucky, Clint's – and now Natasha's – golden one-eyed Labrador, lying with his head at her feet protectively while she read her book. "Any arguments?"

"Nah. We allowed put each other off?" Barney replied, smirking when he noticed his little brother watching Natasha.

Clint smirked as he nodded. "As if we wouldn't anyways."

The thirty-three-year-old nodded, smirking as he aimed at the furthest target and let the arrow fly, glaring at his little brother fired his own arrow, hitting Barney's off target. "I always hated that you were able to do that," he commented, noticing his brother had hit the bulls-eye with another arrow.

"Stop whining,  _Trickshot_ ," Clint teased, notching another arrow, smirking at his brother when he released it. And hitting another bulls-eye.

"Shut up,  _Hawkeye_ ," Barney growled, pouting at his younger brother before he took off, surprising the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Clint glanced back at his fiancée before taking off after his brother, hitting as many bulls-eyes as he could while he ran.

He watched Barney climb up one of the trees – the same one where they had built a treehouse when they were kids. A place to get away from their father. Clint climbed up after his brother, surprised to find their treehouse still in perfect condition. The younger archer climbed up into it, pausing when he saw his brother looking at a framed photograph. "Barn?"

Barney didn't seem to hear him so Clint slowly walked over to the F.B.I. agent, careful not to startle him. Suddenly the older archer spoke. "I had forgotten about this photo," he murmured, handing it to Clint.

Clint frowned in confusion before looking down at the slightly faded photo. In it, the two were merely boys. Clint barely a few months old, Barney just around six-years-old. Their parents were there too. In happier times. Edith was smiling as she held her youngest son and Harold had Barney resting on his hip. "Well this is old," Clint commented lightly, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah. Do me a favour though. Don't name any kids you and Natasha have after our parents. They don't need to be tainted by our past," Barney whispered, his eyes still locked on the photo.

Clint nodded his agreement, handing the photo back to his brother before looking around the rest of the treehouse. "I forgot about this place," he stated, surprising his older brother. "Maybe because I'm with Tasha now, I'm putting all the bad memories behind me. I rarely have nightmares anymore. Only when Nat's not with me," he confessed.

"Love does that to you," Barney replied, putting down the photograph and turning to look at his brother. "She'll be wondering where we are," he added, watching Clint carefully as the latter looked at the different things lying around the house. "Should we get back to the game? Or do you want to do something with Natasha?"

"When does Ashley get off work?" Clint asked, heading towards the trapdoor, not once glancing back. "Maybe the four of us can head out for dinner together?"

"She'd like that," Barney replied, following his brother. "I'll ring her and ask."

* * *

Natasha glanced up as Clint walked up to her, the red-head frowning in concern when she noticed the pensive look on her fiancée's face. "Clint?" she started but he cut her off by kissing her softly.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips, moving to his knees all-the-while making sure he didn't hit off Lucky. "You know that, right?"

"Yes," Natasha replied, placing her hands on his and guiding them to her baby bump to her baby bump. "You show me every day," she added, pecking his lips lovingly and leaning her forehead against his. "And I love you too."

"Even though love is for children?" he questioned, asking about the words she so often says when on the job or on base.

"You make me feel like one. In a good way," she replied, running her hands through his hair, watching him carefully as his eyes slid close at her touch. "What's on your mind, мой любовь?"

Clint didn't reply straight away, simply bringing Natasha's hands to his chest. She was the only one since his mother to touch him there. "Want to go out to dinner with Barney and Ashley?" he asked after a few minutes, making Natasha pause in surprise before nodding.

"Okay. But that's not an answer," she replied nonchalantly, making Clint smirk at her weakly.

"As observant as ever, Miss Romanova," he commented dryly, standing up and pecking her forehead lovingly. "Later," he promised.

Natasha nodded, standing up. As a result, Lucky was up, looking around for anyone who was trying to hurt his owners before realising that no one was there. He looked up questioningly at Natasha and Clint, earning chuckles from the two. "Come on, Lucky. Let's get you your treat," the red-head coaxed, making the dog's tail waggle happily.

"You spoil him," Clint stated, smirking at Natasha when she raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't imagine what you'll be like when our baby is born," he added, grinning when Natasha smiled softly.

"Something tells me that you'll have the same problem," she commented, following her fiancée and their dog inside.

* * *

"Clint, Natasha, this is my girlfriend, Ashley Foster. Ashley, this is my brother, Clint and his fiancée, Natasha," Barney said, introducing the three. Clint stood up and shook hands with the brunette, smiling at her as Natasha got up to do the same.

"It's good to finally meet you," Clint said as they took their seats in the corner, the perfect place to see everywhere in the restaurant. "Barney talks about you a lot."

Ashley blushed, glancing at Barney with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" she teased, making the thirty-three-year-old blush as well. "He decided to surprise me by suddenly showing up yesterday."

"I thought it was a good surprise," Barney murmured, making Clint and Natasha laugh at him as a result. "Oh, shut up, you two. You were so loud last night I had to take Lucky for a walk when I got back to the house," he shot at the couple, making the two glare at him.

Natasha buried her face in her hands, hiding her blush as her fiancée glared at his brother. "Barney, we're not restating this discussion. And it was never up for discussion either," Clint warned, glaring at his brother as he took Natasha's left hand in his, interlacing their fingers. "We actually wanted to ask you both a favour," he added, making both Ashly and Barney raise an eyebrow at the expecting couple.

"And that is?"

"We want you to be witnesses to our wedding…"


	25. The Past Still Has Power In The Present Pt. 1

" _We actually wanted to ask you both a favour," he added, making both Ashley and Barney raise an eyebrow at the expecting couple._

" _And that is?"_

" _We want you to be witnesses to our wedding…"_

"Seriously?" Barney exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at his brother and his future sister-in-law. "Hold up. I thought you wanted Phil, Melinda and Maria here too?"

"Well, they are supposed to be here tomorrow," Natasha started with a nonchalant smirk, making Clint chuckle as Ashley and Barney stared at them with their jaws on the floor. "And the wedding is in two days from today," she added, her own smirk revealing itself when Barney registered what day it would be.

"Thursday. You two waited until I told you what day Ashley would be off before you booked it," the thirty-three-year-old observed, smirking at them as he took Ashley's hand in his, interlacing their fingers. "What do you think?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend. "Willing to put up with my family?"

"I've put up with you and your job for two years, what do you think?" Ashley responded, smirking at her boyfriend who grinned sheepishly. Turning back to the expecting couple, she finally answered them, "We'd love to be part of the wedding. Thank you."

"Are Phil & co. staying at the farmhouse?" Barney asked suddenly, making Natasha and Clint raise their eyebrows at him. "You know, because neither of you want your job infecting your life away from it."

"I've already spoken to Nick," Natasha replied. "He's been like a father to me. And he trusts me more than most. So he agreed to keep this place off record."

"He gonna be here too?"

Clint turned to Natasha. "He and Hill are together, aren't they?" he asked, knowing that Natasha had found a confidant in Maria and vice versa.

Natasha grinned. "If you've only realised that, I'll laugh at you," she informed him, smirking – as well as biting back a moan – when he pouted at her.

"No… But I never had proof. You just gave it to me."

"Wait, aren't Melinda and Phil divorced?" Barney suddenly interrupted, making all of the other three raise their eyebrows at him. "Isn't it going to be, you know, a little awkward between them?"

"They still, eh, hook up from time to time. And they're also best friends. So no, they won't be awkward around each other," Clint replied, scratching the back of his head and cringing at the memory of the time he and Natasha had stumbled in on the two senior agents last year. Turning to Natasha, he asked, "Maybe we should book them a hotel. You know, to make sure we don't have a repeat of last year?"

Natasha smirked and shook her head, biting back her own blush. "I think there'll be more chance of them walking in on us than us walking in on them, Love," she replied, making Barney snigger from across the table. And that earned him a playfully head slap from Ashley.

"Barn, be nice," the brunette admonished, scowling at her lover. Barney pouted and rubbed the back of his head, looking at Ashley like a kicked puppy.

"Well, the kicked puppy look is definitely a Barton trait," Natasha commented, making Ashley laugh in agreement.

"Oh definitely," the twenty-six-year-old commented. "Nothing's changed since they were kids. Except that they both grew up," she added, earning glares from the brothers. "What? You two were the talk of the school. Between sports and brawling, you had most girls drooling over you. And the boys drooling over your surrogate little sister."

"How is Kate?" Clint asked, tightening his fingers around Natasha's. "Bishop still wrecking the guys' heads?"

"As usual. Did you really expect anything less from that kid?"

"She's only twenty-three!" Barney exclaimed, looking at his girlfriend with raised eyebrows. "Her actual dad owns Bishop Publishing. And she's wrecking heads still?"

"You two weren't the only ones into archery," the brunette replied with a knowing smirk. "She uses her archery skills to annoy people. Just like someone else I know."

"What's she at?" Clint asked before Barney could shout again; they really didn't need a scene.

"She's a detective with the local station. And a damn good one at that," Ashley replied with a smirk just as the waiters came to take their order.

"What do you work at, Ashley?" Natasha asked, already knowing the backstory to why Clint and Barney were close to Kate Bishop.

"At the local crèche. Montessori teacher," she replied, smiling at the red-head. "And I got stuck with an agent," she whispered suspiciously, smirking when Barney pouted in reply.

Natasha grinned and nodded, smirking at Clint knowingly. "She's not the only one stuck with a stubborn idiot," she muttered in Russian, earning a raised eyebrow from her fiancée.

Clint leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Miss Romanova, if you misbehave you know that I have no bother spanking you tonight," he warned in Russian, grinning when she shivered at his words.

"With those silver balls?"

"Oi! Lovebirds! We all know you both are bilingual but we can guess you are planning something for your private  _activities_  but seriously?" Barney interrupted, grinning when Natasha blushed and Clint glared at him.

"And like you wouldn't do the same," Ashley teased, grinning when Barney blushed as well.

"Are you offering?" he asked, grinning when she smirked.

"And I thought we were bad," Clint grumbled, winking at Natasha who smirked in reply…

* * *

Natasha groaned as Clint pushed her against the wall of their bedroom, his hands pinning hers above his head while kissing her hungrily. The red-head moaned into their kiss, gasping when he growled against her lips. "Clint," she whined when he broke the kiss, making his way down her neck.

"You misbehaved today, Miss Romanova," he murmured in Russian, grinning when his fiancée whimpered as he mouthed at her hardening nipples through her t-shirt. "What should I do with you?" he whispered teasingly.

"Punish me, Master," she moaned, her body shaking with pleasure as she thought about the last time he spanked her. He never went full force – he was very obviously against actually hurting her – but he was willing to indulge her with spanking. "Please."

Suddenly, Clint pulled away from her, his voice deepening a few octaves. "Go into the playroom. Strip down to your panties. And kneel," he ordered, his dominating tone very obvious to his lover.

"Yes, Master," she purred, smiling as she stepped away from the wall and made her way to the playroom, stripping as she went.

Clint paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself and planning his next actions. He wanted to please Natasha. Not hurt her. He quickly went down to the kitchen, more than thankful that Barney had decided to stay the night with Ashley. He grabbed a glass and opened the freezer, taking a glass of ice cubes. Then he ran back upstairs and followed his fiancée into the playroom, smiling when he found Natasha in the way he had told her.

"You're such a good girl, Tasha," he praised, leaning down and pressing his lips to her neck. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

"Always for you, Master," she whispered, grinning up at him when he gently grabbed her chin. Her eyes widened in pleased surprise when she saw the ice cubes in her fiancée's hand.

"I'm not going to punish you much, Natasha," he whispered, kissing her softly. "Five slaps. That's all. Then we're going play with some temperature change. Is that okay?"

Natasha bit her bottom lip and nodded, taking Clint's hand when he offered it and followed him over to the table. She smiled at him reassuringly when he glanced at her, making sure that she wanted this.

"When I nod, put your hands on the table and bend over, Natasha," he ordered softly, running his hand along her spine. "Spread your legs for me and don't make a sound. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied, smirking at him knowingly as she did as she was told. She watched as Clint walked over to the drawer, opening the top one where she knew he had the stored the Ben Wa Balls. She grinned happily, biting her bottom lip when he walked back over to her.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his voice low with desire. Natasha does as she is told, thing that he was going to put the balls in her mouth to lubricate them. Instead he slips his left index finger in her mouth. "Suck," he whispered huskily.

The red-head reached up and clasped his hand, holding her lover steady and did as she was told. She sucked hard, rewarded by the widening of his eyes and the parting of his lips as he inhaled deeply. At this rate, the ex-Russian spy was not going to need any lubricant for herself.

Clint put the silver balls in his mouth as she sucked his finger, twirling her tongue around the digit. When he tried to withdraw it, she clamped her teeth down, promptly stopping him.

The archer grinned before shaking his head, admonishing her, so she let go. He nodded so she bent over, placing her hands on top of the table. He moved her panties to one side before slowly sliding one finger inside her, teasing her, circling it leisurely. The red-head couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips.

Briefly, he withdrew his finger before gently inserting the toys inside her, one ball at a time, pushing them deep inside her. Once they were in position, he smoothed her panties back in place before kissing her backside gently. He slowly ran his hands up each of her legs from ankle to thigh, gently kissing the top of each thigh lovingly.

Standing, Clint grasped her hips and pulled her ass against him, letting her feel his erection. "Are you ready, Моя Паук?" he whispered, running his hand along her sides and over her baby bump.

"Please," she begged, moaning when she heard the tell-tale sign of fabric rustling.

"You need to promise me one thing," he whispered, pecking her shoulder lovingly.

"Anything."

"You will use your safe word if you need to. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master."

Clint nodded, stepping back and curling one hand around her hip, holding her in place as his hand left her ass before landing hard, making her gasp and moan at the touch. And as he is Hawkeye, his next strike hit her in the exact same spot. He slowly massaged her skin before slowly peeling her panties down and pulling them off. He gently trailed his palms over her ass before striking her once more, this time on her other cheek, leaving her quivering and gasping at his touch.

"Five," he murmured, before dropping to his knees behind her. He massaged her skin lovingly before kissing each cheek and standing up. "You okay?" he whispered, sliding two fingers inside her, making Natasha cry out as she suddenly came around his fingers.

Clint kissed his way up her spine, slowly removing his fingers from inside her. "You're perfect, Tasha," he murmured against her skin, slowly leading her to the bed.

Natasha blushed but let him guide her to lie down, face up, on the bed. Then he returned to the table to grab the glass of ice cubes. She grinned at him as he dropped his pants and boxers before climbing onto the bed beside her. "What made you decide to do a temperature change?" she asked, curious.

Clint just grinned before leaning down and blowing warm air on her sensitive nipples. Then he grabbed an ice cube and slowly brushed it over both. It immediately caused Natasha to arch high off the bed, moaning his name loudly.

He continued the pattern, blowing warm air on her skin before following the path with an ice cube. Natasha didn't know how to react to the sensations as she'd never felt like this before. "Clint," she gasped when he reached the apex of her thighs. "Please."

"What do you want, Tasha?" he whispered before blowing on her folds teasingly. Natasha practically convulsed at the action, gasping and groaning as he held an ice cube against her clit teasingly. "Wanna hear you tell me what you want."

The red-head whimpered as he replaced the ice cube with his mouth, sucking lightly on her bundle of nerves. Her body was sensitive to his touch, rending her mostly incoherent. "Please. Clint. Ты мне нужен. Пожалуйста. Мой Ястреб," she begged, forced to speak her native tongue because of the white pleasure coursing through her veins.

Deciding it was time to put her out of her misery, Clint slid two fingers inside her, curling them as he slowly moved them. Natasha immediately cried out, a second orgasm suddenly surging through her body. The archer removed his fingers from her, allowing her to ride out her high while he knelt between her legs. He placed two pillows under the small of her back before grabbing the base of his cock and positioning himself at her entrance.

Natasha opened her eyes and found Clint's, panting heavily as he slowly slid inside her. She clenched her hands around the sheets beneath her, tossing her head as her fiancée slowly and pleasurably stretched her lower lips.

Clint planted his hands on either side of Natasha's head, waiting a moment for the both of them to adjust. He kept his eyes on his fiancée, smiling at her as he peppered kisses along her neck, jaw and chin. Every now and again, he would nip on her skin before claiming her lips hungrily, biting and sucking on her bottom lip.

Natasha moaned into the kiss, bringing her hands up to trail them through Clint's hair. Suddenly, he pinned her hands back down to either side of her head, her fingers interlaced with his. He grinned against her lips, breaking the kiss so he could lean his forehead in the valley of her breasts, curling his body so he wasn't leaning on her baby bump.

"Clint," she gasped, bringing her knees up and linking her ankles on the small of his back. "Боже мой. Пожалуйста," she begged, tossing her head back and arching as Clint sucked and bit on her breasts playfully.

He slowly picked up his pace, the familiar pooling of pleasure in his groin obvious to just how close he was. "Come for me, Tasha," he ordered, reaching between them and flicking her clit. "Come. Let me feel it."

She threw her head back and let out a scream as she came for the third time, sobbing his name in pleasure, her body arching like a drawn bow.

He followed soon afterwards, her orgasm triggering his own. He held his weight on his elbows, pressing soft kisses along her sternum and the top of her baby bump.

Slowly, he pulled out of her, making Natasha whine in protest. He silenced her with a soft kiss, slowly climbing out of the bed and walking over to where they had a few towel waiting. He returned to the bed, slowly and lovingly wiping her body clean.

She purred, moving into his touch, smiling at him sleepily when he kissed her collarbone lovingly. "You wore me out, love," she whispered lethargically, making Clint grin against her skin.

"We aim to please, Ms Romanova," he whispered before dropping the towel and lifting her up, bridal style. He carried her out to their bedroom, pressing his lips to her neck, smiling when she curled into his touch.

He lay down on the bed with her, letting her curl up against him, her head buried in his chest. "We need to think about baby names," Natasha muttered against Clint's chest, making the archer chuckle as he twisted his head to look at her.

"Do you have any in mind?" he whispered, stroking her cheek lovingly.

"Two main ones. What about you?"

"Only first names," he replied, giving her an Eskimo kiss.

"What are they?"

"I was thinking that we should have a Russian name and a name from English speaking countries. Like Jeremy. Hunter. Ethan. Dmitry. Daniil," he suggested, brushing a few stray locks out of Natasha's faces.

"What about Artyom Francis?" Natasha offered, surprising Clint. He paused before pressing his lips to her forehead.

"I like it. That's a definite possibility. What do you think of William or Liam Antosha?" he whispered, kissing along her neck lovingly.

"Mmmm. Irish?"

"Liam, yeah. It was my grandfather's name on my mom's side. He was from the outskirts of Galway, I think."

"I like it. We should have a girl's name picked out, just to be prepared," she whispered, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck.

"Mmmm… same idea for the girl's name?"

Natasha nodded, smiling as Clint placed his left hand over her baby bump.

"I like the name, Kiara Nadezhda," he murmured, closing his eyes in contentment as he felt the baby move beneath his hand. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Mia Anya?" she whispered, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady beat of Clint's heart.

"We're coming up with too many good names, Tasha," Clint chuckled, pulling her closer to his body. "Sleep. We still have three months before we actually need one," he whispered softly.

Natasha nodded, following Clint's instruction and letting sleep take over her body. Her fiancée watched her sleep, unable to stop smiling as her lips parted slightly as she inhaled. He'd never get tired of watching her sleep, that was for certain…

* * *

Natasha grinned as she and Clint danced to the soft song. The words suited them – almost – perfectly, she thought as she kept her arms wrapped lightly around her husband's neck as he led them around in a slow waltz. She leaned her head back and smiled at the archer as he looked like the happiest man in the universe.

" _I think I want you more than want  
_ _And no I need you more than need  
_ _I want to hold you more than hold  
_ _When you stood in front of me  
_ _I think you know me more than know  
_ _And you see me more than see  
_ _I could die now more than die  
_ _Every time you look at me_

_Well I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on_  
 _And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom_  
 _I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white_  
 _But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight  
_ _No, I've never seen anything quite like you_

_When it's right it's more than right_  
 _Those you feel it more than feel_  
 _I could take this moment now  
_ _Ride into the great with me_

_I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on_  
 _And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom_  
 _I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white_  
 _But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight_  
 _No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight  
_ _No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight_

_And your eyes are in your eyes_  
 _And my heart's in our hearts_  
 _Sometimes words just ain't enough  
_ _For this love that's more than love_

_Well I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on_  
 _And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom_  
 _I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white_  
 _But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight_  
 _No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight  
_ _No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight."_

She could still reply the minute they became husband and wife…

* * *

" _Will you please repeat the vows you prepared before today?" the elderly but pleasant official asked, nodding to the two as he took a step back_ _from the couple_ _. Their witnesses stood, smiling at the expectant couple. It was a small ceremony but it suited Natasha and Clint perfectly._

" _I, Clinton Francis Barton, take you, Natasha Alianova Romanova, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I take you with all your faults and your strengths as I offer myself to you with my own faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help. I will turn to you when I need help. I promise to have and to hold you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times and in the bad. I vow to love you and care for you with every breath I take and I choose you as the person with whom I want spend my life."_

" _I, Natasha Alianova Romanova, take you, Clinton Francis Barton, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I take you with all your faults and your strengths as I offer myself to you with my own faults and strengths. I will help you when you need help. I will turn to you when I need help. I promise to have and to hold you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times and in the bad. I vow to love you and care for you with every breath I take and I choose you as the person with whom I want spend my life."_

" _You may now kiss the bride," the official offered, smiling as Clint took Natasha in his strong arms, dipping her_ _dramatically_ _as he claimed her lips in a soft, loving kiss. The red-head immediately brought her arms up around her husband's neck, giggling_ _happily_ _against his lips when she realised everyone was clapping._

" _You're finally mine, Tasha," Clint whispered against her lips._

" _I've always been yours," she replied, running one hand through his hair._

" _Not it's official."_

* * *

Natasha was brought out of her thoughts when Clint suddenly pressed his lips to hers, earning applause from everyone at the restaurant. She laughed happily against his lips, deepening the kiss slightly when he tried to pull away.

Eventually, they pulled away and walked over to where Ashley, Barney, Maria, Melinda, Nick and Phil were all seated, grinning at the couple happily.

Clint groaned when his phone suddenly ran, earning raised eyebrows from everyone. "I'll be quick," he stated before he kissed Natasha and exiting out the side door, glaring at the caller ID as he answered the call. "Barbara, I've told you a thousand times; I don't want to talk to you. I wasn't the one who messed up between us," he spoke, anger coursing through his veins. It was his wedding night, and his ex-girlfriend just had to call him. Why was the world so cruel?

"I know. But I just needed you to know that I never cheated on you, Clint. And I wanted you to hear it from me. I know you're happy with Natasha. I know that and I know that I would never have been able to give you the same happiness she gives you. But when you found me with Reynolds, I mean, Alexandrov, I didn't cheat on you with him. But, he…"

It was slowly clicking for Clint. Bobbi hadn't cheated on him; she'd been…

"Look Clint, this is hard for me to admit. But you need to know the truth… Alexandrov… He drugged me and then… he… he raped me…"


	26. The Past Still Has Power In The Present Pt. 2

_“Look Clint, this is hard for me to admit. But you need to know the truth… Alexandrov… He drugged me and then… he… he raped me…”_

“What?” Clint growled, leaning against the wall, fighting the urge to punch it. “You were raped?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Bobbi? I wouldn’t have judged you for it.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know the truth,” Bobbi replied. “I’m getting married next month and it felt like old baggage, you know? I… it just seemed that it was only fair to tell you the truth.”

“Thank you for telling me, Bobbi,” Clint replied, leaning his head back against the wall. “And congratulations on your engagement. You deserve to be happy too.

“Thanks, Clint. That means a lot to me. And I’m happy that you’ve moved on with Natasha. The fact that you let her touch you is proof enough that you love her. And that she makes you happy.”

“Well, I don’t think I would’ve married her if she wasn’t the one person I can’t live without,” he answered nonchalantly, making Bobbi squeal in surprise excitement; who knew she could be so enthusiastic about his marriage to the ex-Russian spy?

“I knew it! Well, Mack and I both knew it!”

“You aren’t getting married to Mack, are you?” he asked, frowning in confusion: Mack was always a big-brother-like figure to the blonde.

“Oh, no. No. No. Ew, Clint! Why would you say that? Mack is practically my big brother. My fiancée isn’t even American. He’s an ex-marine for Britain. But ew, Clint. I can’t believe you’d say that!”

“Sorry,” he apologised, smirking when she continued to rent. “Look, thank you for telling me the truth about what happened between you and Alexandrov. It means a lot that you thought that I deserved to know the truth. And good luck with your wedding next month.”

“Thank you. And thanks for not ignoring my call. Or hanging up on me. Now, go back to your wife. She’s probably wondering what’s taking her husband so long.”

“I’m sure she won’t blame me,” Clint replied before bidding his ex ‘goodnight’. He took a deep breath to control his simmering anger,. How could he have missed the details? How did he not see that Bobbi had been raped? He felt so stupid and angry, wishing that he’d killed Alexandrov almost a year ago during the ‘Shooting Range’ incident.

The archer was brought out of his thoughts by Natasha standing in front of him, her hands gently cupping his jaw, guiding him to look at her. “What’s wrong, Мой Любовь?” she whispered, frowning in concern.

Instead of answering her straight away, he wrapped one arm around her waist and rested his head in between her breasts. He rested his free hand on her stomach, rubbing small circles on her baby bump. “I… Bobbi didn’t cheat on,” he whispered against her chest, surprising his wife. “She rang me. Told me. That Alexandrov raped her. Oh, and that she’s getting married next month. To a Brit. And she wishes you and I all the best.”

Natasha pressed a kiss to the top of his head, not knowing what else to do. She was surprised. Why the sudden change of heart. “Why now?” he whispered, caressing her husband’s back lovingly.

“Because she secretly fangirls us,” Clint answered, kissing his way up her neck to kiss her softly. “I keep thinking about the ‘Shooting Range’ incident,” he confessed, leaning back so he could look her in the eye. “I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if I didn’t get there in time. Would your flashback have prevented you from fighting back? Would he have done what he did to Bobbi?” His voice choked on the last question, making Natasha frown as she thought about what her husband was telling her.

“Clint,” she started softly, using one hand to trail through his spiky locks. “You stopped him before he could do anything. And you made sure that he could never hurt or rape anyone again. Please put it out of your mind. It’s our wedding night. We’re expecting our first baby. You don’t need to think about Alexandrov right now,” she soothed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “It’s in the past. He’s in the past.”

Clint pulled Natasha closer, closing his eyes as he inhaled her scent. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, pulling her even closer at the thoughts running through his mind. “The thought of anyone else having you is a knife twisting in my soul, Tasha,” he murmured against her skin.

“You’re the only one I’ve ever willingly let have me Clint. I don’t count the times I was raped as a child,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck. “Now come on, everyone is waiting for us,” she added, pulling away to look him in the eye. “And I’m getting hungry.”

Clint’s eyes widened and immediately fell to her baby bump. He placed both hands on it, leaning down and pressing a kiss against the soft bump. “I’ll protect you and your mama, Little Hawk,” he whispered before standing up and taking Natasha’s hand in his and leading her back inside.

“You better not have been doing what I think you were doing,” Barney started, making both Natasha and Clint glare at the thirty-three-year-old. "Couldn't you have waited until you two got home," he added, earning a small slap to the back of his head from Ashley.

"Stop. It's their wedding night," the brunette reprimanded, raising an unamused eyebrow at her lover. "And you won't be getting any tonight if you keep it up."

Barney pouted before smiling as a thought crossed his mind. "Can we tell them?" he asked, excitement obvious in his tone. Ashley's face immediately softened as she nodded, allowing Barney to take her hand in his.

Natasha and Clint smirked at each other, the two having already figured out what Barney and Ashley were about to tell them.

"Since my brother and my new sister-in-law have finally tied the knot," Barney joked, smirking at said couple when they groaned at the teasing. "But Ashley and I have our own announcement to make. We're getting married!"

\-------------

Natasha sighed in content as she let Clint carry her into her room.  It was something he had insisted, despite her protests.

\-------------

_Clint suddenly picked Natasha up once she stepped out of the pickup.  The red-head squealed in surprise,  her arms immediately wrapping around her neck. "Clinton Francis Barton, put me down right now!" she ordered, despite the smile on her face._

_"Nope. It's tradition for the husband to carry his wife over the threshold," he replied with a grin, smiling as he carried into their house._

\-------------

Natasha was brought out of her thoughts when Clint laid her down on their bed, kissing her softly as he climbed in beside her. “Love you," he murmured against her lips, smiling as she hummed her delight.

"I love you too," she whispered, leaning into his touch as she placed her hands on his chest. She trailed her fingers along his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly as they kissed leisurely.

"Mmmm. Finally, I get to call you _Mrs. Barton,_ " he murmured against her lips before breaking the kiss to trail his lips along her neck. Natasha gasped and threw her head back, giving him more access to her neck.

"It has a nice ring to it," she whispered in agreement, moaning as Clint slid his hands under the white sundress she was wearing, his rough callused skin skimming over her sensitive breasts. "Shit. Clint."

"I love how you're so sensitive, Tasha," he whispered before pulling away to strip his wife of her dress. "Beautiful," he whispered as he deposited her dress on the floor.

Natasha blushed but smiled at her husband softly. Not one day passed that the archer didn't tell her how beautiful she looked. Despite her mood swings. Clint looked at her like she was a goddess that he didn't have the right to look at. The way he looked at her wasn't the same way their marks looked at her: they looked at her like she was only a piece of meat that they could use to add another notch to their bedposts.

“Clinton,” she moaned as he leaned down and sucked her left nipple into his mouth, brushing his teeth over the sensitive nub. She gasped and arched willingly up into his touch. The archer used his left hand to massage and tug on her other nipple, rubbing the stiffness out of it before making it re-harden. “Oh God. Please. Мой Ястреб. Oh God,” she moaned before suddenly screaming his name as she came unexpectedly.

Clint grinned and let go of her left nipple with a wet _pop_. He slowly kissed his way back up her body, grinning as he peppered kisses over her face while she recovered coherent thought. “Damn, Tasha. New record,” he whispered teasingly when she opened her eyes.

“Mmmm. Clint. That was… wow,” she whispered softly, cupping his jaw lovingly as she kissed him softly. She grinned happily against his lips when he let her push his shirt off of his body. She gently ran her hands along his chest and down his abdomen, tracing every scar she found.

When the need for air became too much, they pulled away, breathing heavily. Clint undid his own dress pants before stripping himself of them and his boxers. He peppered kisses along her neck and between her breasts, slowly making his way down her body. He nuzzled the stretched skin of her baby bump, pressing kisses along her skin, smiling when she slid her hands through his hair.

He massaged the length of her legs, especially the sensitive erogenous zones located on the inside of her thighs. It had her writhing with desire and pleasure, her body shaking at the power of her oncoming orgasm. Slowly, he spread her legs and leaned down to blow on her clit. It earned him another sudden orgasm from the red-head, arching high off the bed, crying out his name as she came hard.

Clint let her ride out her high before ducking his head and running his tongue along her wet slit. She moaned at the sensation, her hands shooting out to grasp the bed sheets tightly. She moaned and brought her legs up around his neck, pulling him closer to her body. “О, Боже. Clinton. пожалуйста. Нет дразнить,” she moaned, letting her husband drive her towards another orgasm.

He slid two fingers inside her as he sucked on her clit, scissoring and curling the two digits against her G-spot. Her eyes clenched shut as she tossed her head back, unable to stop the pooling of heat in her groin. She tried to keep her breathing level but it was pointless when the archer added a third finger inside her. She, for the third time that night, arched her back high off the bed, coming hard with his name falling from her lips.

Clint kissed his way back up her body, removing his fingers from her, letting the last remainders of her orgasm ride their course. He peppered loving kisses over her face, grinning as she shivered in pleasure at the touch. He lay on his side, running his left hand along her body, palming her tits lovingly before running his fingertips over her belly.

When she recovered her thoughts, Natasha pushed him down onto the bed so he was on his back. He raised an amused eyebrow at her as she moved so she was straddling his stomach, her wet hot core against his hard built abdomen. She grinned down at him, leaning down to whisper seductively in his ear, “My turn, Mr. Barton.”

“I’m all your, Mrs. Barton,” he replied, his grey eyes practically black with pleasure.

Natasha smiled and began to kiss her way along his slightly tanned skin, paying extra attention to any scars she crossed as she made her way down his body. When she reached the tops of his thighs, she spread his legs, surprising the archer.

“Natasha,” he started, trying to stop her from doing anything she didn’t want. But he stopped when Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, wrapping her hand firmly around the base of his hard erection.

“Would I be doing this if I didn’t want to?” she asked as she slowly pumped him, her free hand playing with his balls. She grinned when she noticed him biting back a moan, his grey eyes hooded with pleasure as he gazed at her. Slowly, she lowered her mouth to take him inside, smirking when he fisted the bed sheets in order to prevent himself from bucking up into her mouth. She leisurely bobbed her head along his thick length, keeping her eyes locked on his as she moved. Each time she pulled up, she hollowed her cheeks. And each time, Clint let out a low, animal-like growl at the sensation.

“Tasha. Shit. Stop. I. I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he gasped, reaching down and grasping her shoulders in an attempt to stop her. “Please. Tasha. Wanna make love to you.”

She gently let him fall from her lips, grinning up at him as she teasingly ran her tongue along the underside of his cock. Before finally moving so she could straddle his lap. She cocked her head to the side, smirking as he placed his hands on her hips. She rested one hand on her sternum, while she reached between them and grabbed him firmly by the base of his cock.

“You’re such a tease, Natasha,” he growled as she ran the head of his cock along her wet slit. “Tasha….”

Natasha only smirked before suddenly sinking down on him. They both gasped and arched their backs in pleasure, Clint bracing his feet against the bed, offering Natasha more support. She braced her hands against his knees, groaning as she waited for her walls to adjust to his considerable length once more.

Clint helped her move, his large hands firmly on her hips. He kept his eyes on hers, smirking when she kept one hand on his knee, her other on his chest. Their hips moved in what one could only consider a well-rehearsed dance.

He brought one hand up to play with her nipples while the other went between them, finding her clit with ease. He rubbed her bundle of nerves with quick rough circles, his own breathing deepening as he felt his balls tightening. They were both so close to their orgasms. And he wanted her to come first.

“Clint!” Natasha gasped, moaning as she felt her orgasm starting in waves. “I’m close. Please.”

“Come for me, Baby. Let me feel you come for me,” he ordered huskily, biting back his own moan as he watched Natasha arch beautifully over him, sobbing out his name as her climax washed over her.

Her orgasm triggered his own, the archer bucking up into her as he came hard with her.

Natasha almost collapsed on top of Clint, but he caught her in time. He grinned up at her when she smirked down at him. “You know we have all night to consummate our marriage, right?”

Natasha smirked as she raised her eyebrow at him. “You sure you can keep up, Mr Barton?” she purred seductively.

“Always, Mrs. Barton…”

\-------------

_Clint grinned as he watched his mother place the pancakes in front of Barney and him. The two brothers thanked their mother before digging into their breakfast._

_Edith smiled sadly as she watched her sons eat their breakfast, knowing that this quiet time would soon be broken by her abusive alcoholic husband returning from a night long session._

_Suddenly there was a loud banging of the opening and closing of the front door. Edith signaled to her boys to be quiet, which they immediately did so. They both knew why their mother had done so._

_"Wench... Get your fucking ass to the bedroom. Now. Your husband's home!!!" Harold shouted as he entered the kitchen. "You little shores better be outside by the time I get back. D'ya here?" he slurred before grabbing Edith roughly by the arm, ripping her top in his haste. "Now you bitch, you're gonna do your wifely duty."_

_Barney made a move to attack his father but was stopped by his mother's warning glance which meant; don't get yourself attacked and look after your three-year-old brother. He clenched his hands as he watched his mother get dragged by his father to their bedroom._

_And then her screams rang through the house as Barney dragged his little brother out to their treehouse away from the pain they heard...._

\-------------

_“Mommy,” the three-year-old whispered as he snuck into his parents’ room after witnessing his ever-drunk father stumble out of their house. He crawled over to the bed, his beautiful dirty blonde haired mother trying to stifle her sobs of pain._

_“What’s wrong, Little Hawk?” she whispered, grateful to have pulled on a robe before her youngest son entered her bedroom. Edith sat up and gently lifted Clint into her arms before making her way down the hall and downstairs, noticing that it was past the young boy’s usual dinner time. “You hungry, my Little Hawk?”_

_Clint nodded, closing his eyes as he held on to his mother tightly. “Yes, mommy.”_

_“What would you like to eat?”_

_“Pancakes and bananas plwease,” he squealed happily, grinning up at his mother._

_“Of course, little bird. I’ll make you pancakes,” she whispered, pressing her lips to her son’s forehead as she entered the kitchen. She raised an eyebrow when she found her oldest son sitting at the table, finishing his homework. “Barney, are you doing your homework?”_

_The nine-year-old nodded, raising an concern eyebrow when he noticed his little brother clinging to their mother, the older of the two worried that their father had hurt Clint. But then Clint moved so Barney could see his face, void of any tear tracks. “Mrs Foster doesn’t give us hard homework. Not like Mrs Robinson,” the nine-year-old replied, grinning at Clint when Edith placed him in a chair beside him._

_“Mrs Foster is Ashley’s and Jane’s mom, isn’t she?” Edith asked as she stiffly made her way over to the oven. “Ashley’s that girl you stopped from being bullied, isn’t she?”_

_Barney blushed and nodded, keeping his eyes on his homework._

_Clint pulled one of Barney’s copies towards him, frowning in concentration – and confusion – as he looked at the chicken style handwriting belonging his brother. The three-year-old looked up when he heard his brother laughing at him. The youngest Barton pouted at his big brother before grinning as his mother moved the copy and placed a plate of pancakes and bananas in front of him. He quickly dug in, ignoring the amused laughs of his mother and big brother at his enthusiasm…_

\-------------

Clint’s eyes shot open as he breathed heavily, his body running a cold sweat. Slowly, as to not disturb his wife, he climbed out from beneath her hold. He pulled on his workout pants, shirt and boxers. He quietly exited their bedroom, making his way downstairs to the gym he had installed.

He needed to blow off some steam and think about what his dream meant.

\-------------

Natasha rolled over, reaching out to Clint only to find that her husband was no longer in the bed. The sheets were still warm so she stilled and listened carefully, trying to locate her Hawk by the sounds she could hear. She smiled as she heard the low hum of the piano in the study. Her husband is a man of many talents, that was for sure.

She grabbed his discarded dress shirt and pulled it over her head before climbing out of the bed, stretching her tired, sore muscles. He'd really worn her out last night. Slowly, she made her way down the hallway, taking her time to take in the house that had become a home to her.

Clint had the place renovated before they had gotten together. It was now a contemporary style farm house. A full glass atrium connecting the original building to the modern extension which housed the four bedrooms upstairs. He had a gym and indoor pool placed in the downstairs of the extension, while the original building was home to the kitchen, sitting room, two bathrooms and a study.

She smiled as she entered the study, watching her husband as he effortlessly moved his skilled fingers over the keys, lost in his thoughts. She realised that the lid was closed, and her husband had his eyes focused out the one-way window.

Suddenly, he glanced up and their eyes locked, his grey eyes soft and loving as she made her way over to him. When she reached him, he stopped, and shifted so she could sit down beside him.

"Why d'you stop? That was lovely," she whispered as he moved his arm so it was wrapped around her waist. He sighed in content and nuzzled his five o'clock shadow against her neck, smirking when she gasped at the sensation.

"Do you have any idea how desirable you look at the moment?" he replied, nibbling teasingly on her earlobe.

"Come to bed, Clint," she whispered softly, noticing her husband's sweaty workout shirt on the floor. "Please?"

The archer nodded, standing up and lifting Natasha into his arms, earning a small bout of protest from the red-head. "Mrs. Barton..." he started, immediately quietening her with his serious tone, "You're not the _Black Widow_ right now. Not here. Not with me. I'm allowed to spoil you."

Natasha only nodded and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Okay," she murmured against his skin, using her fingers to play with his hair. She nuzzled her face against the hard cords of his neck, realising that he was tense. “What’s wrong, Мой Любовь?” she whispered as he entered their bedroom.

Clint smiled weakly at her in reply before laying her down on their bed. “Later. I promise,” he whispered as he climbed on top of her, kissing her softly. He took her hands in his, interlacing their fingers and pinning her to the bed.

Natasha responded in kind to his kiss, parting her lips when he wordlessly asked for entrance. She moaned into his mouth when he hooked her legs either side of his waist. She smiled against his lips, breaking their kiss and offering her throat to him to tease.

He bit down on her sweet spot, that one place that marks the end of her jaw and the start of her neck behind her left ear. He ran his nose down her neck, and smiled when Natasha shivered at his touch. Suddenly, he yanked his shirt over her head, the need to feel her naked body under his growing ever stronger inside him.

Her nipples harden beneath his gentle touch. He gently pulled her head back, kissing her urgently. Relentlessly. Desperately. Natasha can’t help but wonder what has made her husband so anxious for her touch? She decided to pull him closer, letting him place pillows beneath the small of her back, allowing him ease of access to her most intimate part without leaning all his weight on the baby. He striped himself of his workout sweatpants and boxers before positioning himself at her entrance. He stared down at her, wonder, love and passion evident in his eyes. “I want you so badly,” he whispered before he slowly sank inside her.

\-------------

Natasha lay sprawled out against Clint, her body worn out and heavy with exhaustion. “Why were you up?” she whispered against his chest, pressing her lips against his chest.

“I didn’t have a nightmare. Exactly. It was more of a memory,” Clint whispered eventually, twisting his head to press his mouth against her forehead. “It was when I was three. My father came home one day. Extremely drunk. He raped my mom. Afterwards, I snuck into their room to see my mom. She had herself covered in a robe. She picked me up and brought me downstairs. Barney was doing homework. For a change. She made us pancakes and bananas.”

“Explains why you like pancakes so much,” Natasha whispered softly, tracing his sternum lovingly. She smiled softly as her husband chuckled at her observations.

“And you make damn good ones too. It’s hard not to like them,” he whispered, running his hand over her baby bump lovingly.

Natasha pointed him hard in the ribs, earning a huff of laughter from the twenty-eight-year-old. She decided to nuzzle her face against his chest as she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent. “I love you, Mr. Barton,” she whispered against his marred skin as she felt her body begin to succumb to sleep.

“I love you too, Mrs. Barton,” he whispered, kissing her temple lovingly as he wrapped both arms around her protectively, holding her as close as he could to his body. “Sleep, Моя Любовь,” he whispered lovingly, noticing just how tired his wife was. “Sleep, Baby.”

Natasha only nodded, resting her left hand on his chest, her wedding and engagement rings shining brightly under the moonlight that shone through the window. Clint brought his own ring hand up to hers, enclosing her small hand in his much larger one tenderly. “You need to sleep too, Clint,” she mumbled drowsily against his chest.

“I always sleep better with you, Любовь. I don’t have nightmares when you’re with me,” he whispered just as the red-head fell asleep in his arms. The archer watched as his wife slept peacefully, her young features obvious now that she was asleep. It was easy to forget that the red-head was only twenty-two-years-old; she often had frown lines between her eyebrows when she was awake, whether for concentration or confusion. He pressed one more soft kiss to the exact spot that usually had the frown lines before burying his face in her red hair and following his wife into sleep.


	27. Let's Play...

Clint smiled as he watched Natasha enter the kitchen, wearing – what seemed to be – only his shirt. His eyes scanned over her ever shapely legs, his breathing deepening as she walked over to him. “Morning, Hawk,” she greeted, pecking his lips lovingly.

“Morning, Mrs. Barton,” he greeted, twisting and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting one hand on her baby bump. “Only six more weeks,” he whispered, grinning happily at her when she pecked his jaw softly.

“Mmmm. I can’t wait,” she whispered, nuzzling his jaw lovingly. “I want our baby out of me. Wanna feel normal again.”

“But you’re so beautiful with my baby in you,” he whispered, resting his forehead against his wife’s. "And there's more of you," he added, pecking her lips lovingly.

"I don't like more of me," she whispered halfheartedly, earning a grin from her husband.

"It's great when you come," he teased, smirking when her jaw dropped in surprise at his words.

"Clint?!" she squeaked, unable to stop the blush from crossing her face. She swatted him weakly on the chest and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "You're such an arse," she mumbled against his skin when she realised he was chuckling at her with amusement.

"I'm an arse?" he questioned, feigning hurt, placing his hand on his heart. "Why, Mrs. Barton, you wound me."

Natasha pulled away from him, biting her bottom lip deliberately. "I'm hungry. Feed me, Mr. Barton," she purred, making Clint smirk while his eyes darkened.

"I know what I can feed you," he whispered huskily, resting his hands on her hips.

Natasha returned his smirk, cocking her head to the side. “Later,” she whispered just as Lucky ran into the kitchen. "Why does he still smell like pizza?" she asked, wriggling her nose up at the smell.

“I used to feed him a lot of pizza,” Clint replied, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

Natasha raised an amused eyebrow at her husband, shaking her head playfully at him. The red-head squealed when Clint suddenly pinched her ass playfully. "Go sit, woman. I'll be nice and cook this morning." He grinned when she stuck out her tongue at him, glaring at her husband but did as she was told. She patted Lucky’s head as she made her way over to the breakfast bar. She took the time to enjoy her husband’s body; her green eyes trailed over his well-defined body, his muscled back, dimples, inclines, scars and all. She had learned the stories to each and by now, could recite them in her sleep.

“I can feel your eyes on me, Mrs. Barton.” The archer’s sudden words brought the spy out of her thoughts, the twenty-eight-year-old smirking at the twenty-two-year-old knowingly. “See something you like?”

“Maybe,” she purred, before raising an eyebrow as she realised what Clint was cooking them for breakfast. “Are you making Blueberry Belgian Waffles?” she asked, her eyes wide with child-like delight.

“Yup,” Clint grinned, knowing that his wife had developed a liking for the meal while she’s been pregnant. “I got you those mixed berry yogurts as well,” he added, grinning at the surprised but pleased look on his wife’s face.

“I knew there was a reason I married you,” Natasha teased, biting back a moan when Clint pouted at her. “You need to stop pouting at me,” she informed him, deliberately biting her bottom lip to give him the same effect.

“Nat….” he growled, his eyes narrowing as his breathing deepened. “Do you want to be punished?

Natasha slowly nodded, making Clint pause just after he placed a few waffles on a plate with blueberries and whipped cream. “You want me to punish you?” he asked, carrying the plate over to his pregnant wife.

Natasha nodded and waited until her husband retrieved waffles for himself before returning to the counter. “I wanna play,” she told him when he had a forkful of his breakfast half way down his throat.

His reaction was immediate; he coughed and choked on his food before taking a gulp of water to clear his throat. “What?” he eventually got out, raising his eyes to look at his wife. “You want to what?”

“I wanna play,” she repeated, making Clint stop and watch her carefully. “I want you to take control of me. I like it when you take the control away from me. Because I know that if I say the word you’ll give me back control,” she explained.

Clint took a deep breath before taking her hand in his. “Are… Okay. What do you want me to do?” he whispered, stroking his thumb over her knuckles lovingly.

Natasha cocked her head to the side, biting her bottom lip in thought. “I enjoyed the last time you used the flogger. You know, that brown suede one? I like that,” she admitted, blushing shyly as she ducked her head.

“Don’t hide from me, Tasha,” Clint whispered, using one hand to cup her chin and pull her face up gently to look him in the eye again. “We promised that when you wanted to give up control that you were my equal in everything else. I was only in control in the bedroom.”

“Old habits are hard to break,” she whispered.

“We broke your habit of the handcuffs while you slept,” he replied, smiling at her supportively.

“That was before we got together,” she started but was stopped when Clint placed two fingers on her lips.

“We still broke it. Together. You know that I would never willingly hurt you, Tasha. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” was her immediate answer. “You’re the only one I trust, Clint. I.. I love losing control with you. I can let go with you,” she whispered, bringing her husband’s hand up to brush her lips over his knuckles. “I still have the urge to sleep with the handcuffs sometimes. But then you tie me up sometimes in the playroom and it calms the urges,” she added, earning a surprised grin from her husband.

“I stop the urges?” he whispered. She had never told him that before. Never, verbally, told him that he was able to fight her Red Room programming.

Natasha smiled and nodded, tightening her fingers around his. “You gave me the chance to start a new life, Clint. You gave me the chance to have this life. With you,” she whispered, placing her free hand on her baby bump. “I can let go of my control for you. Because I’m your Tasha. I’m Nat, usually, when we’re working or out with friends. Natasha when it’s a very serious discussion. But when you call me, Tasha. It’s like we’re not S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Like we’re normal people. With a kinky sex life.”

Clint grinned and stood up, walking around the breakfast bar, taking both of her hands in his. He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I love you, Tasha. And I’m honoured that you can relieve your need for control to me. And that I’m your husband, best friend, lover and father of your child,” he whispered against her lips. He slowly helped her off the stool before leading her up to their playroom.

Clint kept his eyes on her when they were inside, closing the door behind them so Lucky wouldn’t disturb them. “Strip. Then move to the bed. Don’t let your eyes leave mine unless I tell you to,” he ordered, his voice dropping with love and lust. He watched her pull her – his – shirt over her head before she made her way over to the bed. Her dilated green eyes never once left his, the red-head biting her bottom lip playfully as she moved. “Tasha…” he growled, his boxers becoming even tighter because of her actions.

“Yes, _master_?” she purred, laying down on the bed, waiting for him to make his play. “I’m yours. For whatever you want to do to me.”

Clint closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself as he decided on what he should do first. “Do you want me to tie you up, Mrs. Barton?” he asked, making his way over to the bed, trailing one hand along her body. He delighted at the way his wife shivered at the touch. A good kind of shiver.

“Yes, _master_ ,” she breathed, her eyes trailing over her husband’s body appreciatively. “I want to be at your complete mercy.”

“No gags or blindfolds,” Clint replied, his stormy grey eyes boring into her green ones. “I am never using blindfold or gags on you. Never.”

“Hard limit anyways,” she whispered, knowing exactly why her husband had said so; he would not do anything that reminded her of her time in the Red Room. To distract him from his thoughts, she offered him her wrists, her breath deepening when he wrapped his hands around her wrists. “But I do want to be tied up.”

Clint slowly brought her hands to the headboard. He used the leather cuffs and tied her to the bed, the soft fur on the inside surrounded by firm leather on the outside, wrapped firmly around her wrists, securing her to the bed. “What are the safewords, Mrs. Barton?” he whispered as he lovingly dragged his hands down her body, massaging her breasts and bump softly before moving his callused hands down to the erogenous zones that were her ankles.

“Red for stop and black for slow down,” she whispered, her breath coming out in husky pants as Clint used similar cuffs to lock her feet to the bed. Now she was eagle spread, at his complete mercy. He had three pillows placed beneath the small of her back, leaving her ass vulnerable to whatever he wanted. A sign of her trust in her husband.

“I like you like this, Tasha,” he whispered, running the pads of his calluses along her skin. “What should we start with? The flogger? Or the vibrator?”

“Flogger, _sir_ ,” she gasped. “Please. Use the vibrator later. _Master_.”

“Is that up to you, Natasha?”

“No,” she gulped, her eyes following his every movement. “Simply, letting you know my opinion, _sir._ ”

“Mmmm.” Clint hummed before suddenly leaning down and kissing her softly. “It’s a good thing I value your opinion on any op,” he whispered teasingly against her lips, teasing her nipples with his fingers. “Such a good girl for me, Tasha. I can smell you,” he whispered, teasing one hand along her slit. “So wet for me.”

Natasha purred and moaned for his touch, forcing her eyes to focus on her husband as he teased her body. “ _Master_ , I’m yours,” she gasped, arching her body to his touch. “Need you to punish me. To make me yours all over again.”

Clint let out a guttural growl, his eyes slipping closed at her words. “The flogger? You sure, Tasha?” he whispered, pecking her lips before pulling back.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes hooded with excitement. She watched her husband walk over to the chest of drawers. He slowly took out the suede flogger, turning and raising an eyebrow at his wife when he heard her breathing hitch.

“You really want this, don’t you?” he asked, holding the flogger in his right hand as he walked back over to the bed. “But why does a good girl like you deserve this, Tasha? Need to hear why you want this.”

“Good girls are bad girls who haven’t been caught,” she replied simply, earning a raised eyebrow from the twenty-eight-year-old. “I’m your naughty girl and your good girl, _master_ ,” she added with a cheeky grin.

“Now you’re being cheeky,” he whispered, languorously trailing the strands of the flogger over her breasts and baby bump. “Mrs. Barton, tut tut. You’re messing up the sheets,” he teased, trailing his left hand along her slit, slipping one finger inside her. Then he brought it to her lips. “Open and suck,” he ordered, smirking smugly when Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise. But she did as she was told, wrapping her lush lips around his finger. She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked, grinning up at him when he growled at her moaning at the taste of herself.

Natasha kept her eyes on Clint’s as she sucked his finger. The archer stilled the strands of the flogger between her breasts,  his eyes focused on hers. “Stop,” he ordered, slowly pulling his finger from her lips. “You let me know the minute you feel uncomfortable. Is that clear?” he asked moving so he could take a better stance to swing the flogger.

“Yes, _master_ ,” she replied, smiling up at him reassuringly.

Clint nodded, taking a deep breath before raising the flogger and flicking it down lightly. Natasha immediately arched up off the bed towards the direction of the flogger’s tails.

“Ten strikes,” he whispered, trailing his hand over her breasts and down to her thighs. “Four to your thighs. Three to your breasts. Three over your groin. Not in that sequence.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes falling to Clint’s as he stood dominantly beside the bed. The sight made her whimper with desire, knowing that her husband would never hurt her. “Yes, _sir_.”

Clint brought the flogger down on the tops of her thighs. Then her breasts. Her groin. He didn’t stick to a pattern but kept the same pressure with each strike all-the-while making sure to not strike her baby bump. Eventually, he reached the ten strikes. He skimmed the strands of the flogger across her swollen stomach at an achingly languorous pace while leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Have you had enough yet, Tasha?” he whispered huskily in her ear.

“Oh, please,” she begged, pulling on the restraints above her head, her eyes closed with pleasure. Suddenly, the flogger's sweet sting bit into the red-head’s behind.

“Please what?”

“Please, _master_ ,” she gasped.

In reply, Clint placed his hands over her sensitive skin, rubbing gently. “Ssshh. I’ve got you, Tasha,” he whispered softly. He slowly slid his hands south, sliding two fingers inside her, making Natasha gasp. “Oh Mrs. Barton, you are so ready for me,” he breathed into her ear, using his teeth to pull on her right earlobe. His fingers slid in and out of her, hitting her G-spot time and time again.

She heard the flogger clatter to the floor while Clint moved his hands over her bump and up to her breasts. She almost came when his callused hands brushed against her overly sensitive skin.

“Shush,” he whispered, cupping her left breast, gently brushing his thumb over her nipple. Natasha moaned and arched up into her touch. His fingers were gentle, rubbing her nipples soft. Then he lowered his mouth to her right nipple, groaning at the taste of colostrum that leaked into his mouth, sucking on the nipple until it harden again in his mouth.

“Clint. Please. Oh God,” she begged, tossing her head back as he teased her nipples. She knew she needed his permission before she could come. And she wouldn’t come until he let her come.

Clint moved away from her lips, slipping his hand back down to her dripping entrance. “Do you want to come, Tasha?” he whispered, watching her carefully as she arched towards his touch. The trembling of her thighs and the clenching of her walls were a tell tail sign that she was on the edge.

“Yes, _master_ ,” she moaned, her eyes slipping closed from the pleasure she was fighting.

“Then come for me, Tasha. Let me hear you come for me,” he whispered teasingly into her ear. He bit down on the lobe of her ear, hooking his fingers against her G-spot at the same time, his thumb pressing down on her clit. The result was immediate;  she arched high off the bed, her head tossed back, her naturally husky voice screaming out his name.

Clint moved so he could lap at her cleanly waxed sex. He sucked on her clit, prolonging her strong orgasm until she was bucking her hips away from him.

"Black... black..." she gasped; Clint's ministrations were too much for her.

Clint pulled away from her, slowly removing his fingers from inside her. He devotionally kissed his way up her body, taking his time to kiss all of her scars, despite their rarity. Slowly, he placed his lips on hers, smiling when she groaned at the taste of her juices in his mouth.

"Such a good girl," he whispered as he moved from his place between her legs. He gently trailed his palms over her sensitive skin, rubbing gently. “Such a good girl for me, Tasha," he murmured against her skin when he leaned down to press his lips against her sternum.

"All yours _Sir_ ," she whispered, slowly opening her eyes to gaze up at him. She smiled as he watched her carefully, his eyes lighting up when he knew she was ready for more.

"And I'm yours, Tasha," he whispered before undoing the restraints around her ankles. "What do you want to do now, Mrs. Barton?" he asked, reaching up to undo the cuffs around her wrists.

“You,” she whispered, immediately bringing her hands to the nape of his neck, her fingers trailing through the stray locks. “Want you.” She gasped in surprise when Clint suddenly picked her up and carried her over to the Tantra chair. Her body was still recovering from her orgasm, leaving her slightly incoherent.

Clint laid her down on the chair and returned to the drawers. Natasha kept her eyes on him but was still surprised when music suddenly filled the room. The red-head raised an eyebrow at him when he walked back over to her, lube and a butt plug in his hands. They had done some anal play before which had been… enjoyable for the twenty-two-year-old.

“If you want?” Clint offered, standing beside her, watching her carefully as she bit her bottom lip.

“Yes. I told you that I wanted to play,” she replied, reaching out and gently running her hand over his chest. “I trust you, Clinton.”

He nodded and knelt on the chair, pulling Natasha’s legs over his shoulders so he had access to her back entrance. He squirted a generous amount of lube on his fingers. Slowly, he slipped one digit past her sphincter, making the red-head arch at his touch.

 _I look and stare so deep in your eyes_  
I touch on you more and more every time  
When you leave I'm begging you not to go  
Call your name two or three times in a row  
Such a funny thing for me to try to explain  
How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame  
'Cause I know I don't understand  
Just how your love you’re doing no one else can

Clint bent his body to press his lips against her clit. He eased a second finger inside her, continuing to prep her for the butt plug. He grinned against her lower lips when she gasped out his name in pleasure at his touch. He used his free hand to hand her the butt plug. “Put lube on it,” he ordered, his eyes locked on hers when he leaned up to look at her.

 _Got me looking so crazy right now, your love's_  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your love)  
Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your touch)  
Got me hoping you'll page me right now, your kiss  
Got me hoping you'll save me right now  
Looking so crazy in love's  
Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love.

Natasha did as she was told, keeping her eyes on her husband’s as he slowly removed his fingers from her back entrance. He took the butt plug from her, kissing her softly before gently pushing the sex toy inside her. The red-head grasped the sides of the chair, taking deep breaths to keep her focused.

“Relax, Tasha. I’m not going to hurt you,” Clint whispered, pecking soft wet kisses over her baby bump and breasts. “I’m going to make you see stars.”

 _When I talk to my friends so quietly_  
Who he think he is? Look at what you did to me  
Tennis shoes, don't even need to buy a new dress  
If you ain't there ain't nobody else to impress  
The way that you know what I thought I knew  
It's the beat my heart skips when I'm with you  
But I still don't understand  
Just how the love you’re doing no one else can

Natasha tossed her head back when her husband had the plug all the way inside her. He gently kissed her cheek before he climbed off the chair, walking over to the table to clean his hands with baby wipes. Then he returned to beside her, running his hands over her body.

“You’re all mine, Mrs. Barton,” he whispered, kissing her softly. He grinned when she leaned up to his touch, her green eyes dilated almost black with pleasure. “Can I make love to you now?”

Natasha simply replied by offering him her wrists, craning her neck to allow him access to mark her skin. “All yours, Mr. Barton,” she whispered seductively.

 _Got me looking so crazy right now, your love's_  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your love)  
Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your touch)  
Got me hoping you'll page me right now, your kiss  
Got me hoping you'll save me right now  
Looking so crazy in love's  
Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love

Clint grinned and held her wrists in his large hands pinning them above her head with one hand, the other trailing over her body lovingly. “Want you to ride me, Tasha,” he informed her, helping her to stand up so he could take her place on the chair instead. He quickly stripped himself of his boxers, tossing them across the room.

 _Got me looking so crazy right now, your love's_  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your love)  
Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch  
Got me looking so crazy right now (your touch)  
Got me hoping you'll page me right now, your kiss  
Got me hoping you'll save me right now  
Looking so crazy in love's  
Got me looking, got me looking so crazy in love

_Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh no no..._

Natasha nodded and moved to straddle her husband, her hands resting on his chest. She watched Clint grip the base of his cock and positioned the head at her entrance. She slowly sank down on him, her mouth dropping open at the sensation of him filling her up so good. A few songs were played in between their movements but neither assassin really paid attention to the words.

She moaned as Clint moved his legs so that her ass was resting against his thighs. He brought one hand in between them, his callused thumb rubbing her clit in firm, steady strokes while she took a moment to adjust to his considerable length. He brought his other hand to the butt plug, gently moving it inside her just as a new song started.

 _You're the light, you're the night_  
You're the colour of my blood  
You're the cure, you're the pain  
You're the only thing I wanna touch  
Never knew that it could mean so much, so much

 _You're the fear, I don't care_  
'Cause I've never been so high  
Follow me through the dark  
Let me take you past our satellites  
You can see the world you brought to life, to life

The red-head gasped in pleasure, her eyes focused on her husband as she slowly began to move. She slowly moved her hips up and down, tossing her head back when he flicked the nail of his thumb teasingly over her clit. She moved her feet so they were planted on the chair, either side of Clint’s hips.

Clint flicked the plug, grinning when Natasha’s back arched as a result, her hands moved to his biceps. She moved faster on him, the familiar pooling of heat in her lower back driving her movements.

 _So love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do_  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do  
Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do  
What are you waiting for?

Clint moved so he could suck and nibble on Natasha’s nibbles, grinning when she moaned his name in pleasure. “Wanna feel you come, Tasha,” he whispered as he let go of her breast with a loud wet _pop_. “Wanna hear you and feel you.”

 _Fading in, fading out_  
On the edge of paradise  
Every inch of your skin is a holy grail I've got to find  
Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire  
Yeah, I'll let you set the pace  
'Cause I'm not thinking straight  
My head's spinning around I can't see clear no more  
What are you waiting for?

“Want you to come with me this time,” she groaned, her fingers tightening around his biceps, her hips rocking hard and fast on his length. Her gasps and groans of ecstasy were driving her husband towards his own orgasm.

Clint pulled her against his body, hitting each and every sweet spot inside her as a result of the slight change in angle. Her thighs began trembling with the pleasure she had coursing through her body.

 _Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do)_  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do  
Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do  
What are you waiting for?  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do)  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah)  
Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do  
What are you waiting for?

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Want to hear what you want me to do, Tasha?” he teased, his voice low and husky with pleasure.

“Oh God,” Natasha gasped. Her eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure, her nails digging into Clint’s biceps as she struggled to control her body and think coherently. “Want you to fill me up. Want you to mark me. Come inside me. Please,” she begged, sobbing out in pleasure when he moved the plug in time with her movements.

 _I'll let you set the pace_  
'Cause I'm not thinking straight  
My head's spinning around I can't see clear no more  
What are you waiting for?

“Come for me, Tasha. Now,” Clint ordered, unable to stop his orgasm any longer.

Natasha tossed her head back in pure ecstasy as she screamed his name loudly and came hard around her husband’s cock. Her nails dug into his biceps, leaving half cresent moons in his muscled skin. Her fluttering, clenching walls pulled the archer into his own orgasm. The twenty-eight-year-old pulled her as close as was possible as he spilled inside her before they both collapsed against each other.

 _Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do)_  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (yeah)  
Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do  
What are you waiting for?  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (like you do)  
Love me like you do, lo-lo-love me like you do (oh)  
Touch me like you do, to-to-touch me like you do  
What are you waiting for?

The couple panted heavily as they recovered from their respective orgasms. They kissed languorously, smiling and chuckling in delight, their hands trailing over each other’s bodies, lovingly caressing each and every part they could get their hands on….

\------------------------------------

Clint smiled at his wife as he massaged the Ale Vera cream into her still red skin. He had already removed the butt plug and had left it steeping. Now he was taking care of his sleepy, worn-out pregnant wife as they lay in their bed.

“I enjoyed that,” she whispered, her green eyes flickering open to smile at him. “I forgot how well you can use a flogger.”

The archer could only smile in reply, watching his spy’s eyes slip close as sleep began to take over her body. He got off the bed and put away the cream. He pulled on a pair of sleeping pants and with another glance at Natasha’s sleeping form, he made his way downstairs to cheek on Lucky and feed the poor dog.

\------------------------------------

Natasha moaned as she felt Clint climb into the bed behind her, the archer’s arms wrapping around her baby bump protectively. She twisted her head to ask if he was okay but was greeted by a soothing kiss from her husband.

“Sleep, Tasha. Everything’s okay,” he whispered, pulling her back against his front.

She could only nod in reply, allowing the steady comforting thud of her husband’s heartbeat lull her back into a peacefully sleep….

\------------------------------------

Later, Natasha finally got to finish her Belgian Blueberry Waffles, watching Clint from the porch as he played around with Lucky. The archer was throwing an old tennis ball for the one-eyed dog, the five-year-old Lab more than happy to chase the ball as it bounced off the hard ground. She ran a hand over her swollen baby bump, smiling as the baby moved towards her hand.

“That’s your papa, Little Hawk,” she whispered to her bump, smiling when she received a stronger kick in response. “He may not think he will be but I know he’ll be the best father. And although I’m unsure of my abilities to be a mom, I promise you that neither your Papa or Mama will let anyone hurt you. You’ll want for nothing, my Little Hawk.”

Little did Natasha know, her husband was watching her conversation with their unborn baby with pride, happiness and content… Nor that the archer had made a similar promise before she woke up after their own playtime.


	28. It's A Barton Thing...

"Phil, you said this was an easy mission. As in, no problems!"  _Hawkeye_  shouted over the comms. He ducked as another round of bullets rained down on him. "You said a quick mission, in and out, and I'd be home to Tasha within a day. I don't think I'll be home tonight!"

" _ **I don't remember telling you that. I said in and out, yes. But since your memory needs-…"**_

"Phil, shut the fuck up! Or I'll take Lola out for a drive and crash her!"

" _ **You wouldn't…"**_

"Then don't fucking tempt me!" The archer frowned when his handler didn't answer him, the twenty-eight-year-old shot a smoke arrow in the direction of his assailants before jumping out the window and shooting a grappling arrow at the window ledge two floors up. He repelled down to the ground, quickly moving away from the building.

Suddenly, his comms sprung to life.  _ **"Barton, we have a situation…"**_

"Well, it can't be worse than this shithole you've sent me to," Clint snarled, groaning when more Tracksuit Mafia thugs ran out of the building after him. "Didn't I mention that the Tracksuit Mafia hate me? I remember mentioning it at least once. I did take Lucky away from their boss, you know that, right?"

" _ **Clint, this…"**_

"Phil, would you spit it out already?!" Clint shouted, sending an explosive arrow towards the building. He slid across the bonnet of a car, ducking under it as the building blew up.

" _ **Clint, Natasha's gone into labour!"**_

"What?!" the archer roared, ducking again when the shouting died down. "Did you just tell me that my wife has gone into labour?!"

_**"Yes. That's exactly what I said!"** _

"I am going to kill you if I miss the birth of kid, Coulson!"

_**"Extraction is two minutes out. Get up onto a high building."** _

"You are so fucking dead, Phillip!" The archer quickly ducked into the highest block of apartments and ran up the flights of stairs. "I swear to God you are a fucking idiotic bastard!" Clint growled under his breath, ducking as a stray bullet went through the fire escape door.

_**"I know, I know. But I did order the helicopter for you..."** _

Clint hummed tunelessly as he escaped onto the roof. "You still owe me one," he muttered, racing towards the ladder of the helicopter. "Who's piloting the 'copter?"

_**"Melinda May."** _

"So you're not a complete idiotic bastard," Clint muttered, climbing up into the helicopter. He joined  _Cavalry_ in the cockpit. "Thanks, May. I owe you one."

"You owe Coulson one. Not me," she replied, smirking at the younger agent knowingly.

" _ **See, I can be nice. Not that it happens often but I can still be nice."**_

"Melinda wasn't the one who sent me to an abandoned warehouse just outside New York City to deal with absolute assholes who were supposedly dealing with gun running. Especially after knowing that I've had run-ins with them in the past."

" _ **Now, I don't think it's my fault that you have a habit of pissing people off, Barton. I'm surprised Romanoff hasn't killed you yet."**_

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman when it comes to the  _Black Widow_ ," Clint replied, making Melinda actually snort in reply.

"Sure, that's the reason Nat hasn't killed you yet. It has nothing to do with the fact that you two work well together and that you two only trust each other. With everything. Or the fact that you're married," she stated, raising an eyebrow when Clint made a move to comment before just shutting his mouth and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yeah, that's what I thought, Barton."

" _ **Thank God I switched this line to a secure signal."**_

"Well, it's the least you could've done," Clint barked, his knee bouncing as he pulled out his phone from the hidden compartment of his vest. "I told you that I had a bad idea about this mission. And now I could miss the birth of my kid. When I promised Natasha I would be there. I swear to whatever fucking God that actually exists that if you've made me break that promise I will kill you, Phillip J. Coulson."

"And you are a nervous father and husband," Melinda commented before Phil could reply. "Phil, where is Natasha having the baby?"

" _ **Waverly Health Center. Ashley's with her."**_

"Still going to kill you, Coulson," Clint muttered, nervously glancing at his phone, groaning when he realised he had no signal. "Coulson, if you don't want Natasha or I to kill you, will you please get me linked to her phone. Please?"

" _ **Okay. Patching through now."**_

"Who's with you?"

" _ **No one. I'm alone in my offices. Hill left a few minutes ago to inform the Director of the situation. She's doing damage control before heading to Iowa."**_

Suddenly, Natasha's husky and tired voice came over the comms.  _"Phil, what's wrong? Is Clint okay?"_

"Hey, Nat. You okay?" Clint responded, smiling as his eyes closed at the sound of her voice. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm on my way to you. Melinda's giving me a lift.

" _I'm six centimetres dilated. Ashley's with me. I've been in labour for almost two hours. Should be another two before he's ready to join us."_

"Okay. I'll be there by then. 'M not going let you have our baby by yourself."

"Barton, there's civilian clothes in the back for you. We're transferring to a unmarked jet with camouflage," May informed him, making the archer smile in relief. He moved to the beck, grapping the bag. "Phil, we've landing on the airfield and switching to the jet."

" _ **Copy that, May. Get Barton to his wife before either of them kill me."**_

" _Phillip, I'm going to castrate you. Killing you would hurt us more in the long run,"_ Natasha stated over the comms, surprising the suit.  _"If you make Clint miss the birth of our son, I will personally castrate you and feed you your balls."_

Clint chuckled as he and May ran to the jet after tossing the keys to Hill as she made her way to deal with damage control. "Agent Barton, you better not have blown up more than one building," the assistant director warned him as she took the helicopter.

"No more than usual, Agent Hill," he replied, mock-saluting her as he ran up the ramp of the jet. Maria groaned and shook her head, waving her good luck to the two agents.

Suddenly, Natasha let out a muffled grunt, immediately catching Clint's attention. "Nat? Tasha, sweetheart, you okay?"

" _Contractions,"_ she muttered in reply.  _"Damnit, Clint, your kid kicks like a soccer player."_

Clint chuckled slightly at her words, relieved that she wasn't in any danger. "We should be there in forty-five minutes, Babe. Especially with May as the pilot." He was changing into his civvies while May started the engine. He grabbed hold of a hanger when the jet lifted off the ground. "Thank God for Stark Tech," he muttered, returning to tie his boots.

" _Clint…"_ she started but stopped herself as another contraction hit her.  _"If we have any more kids, you are_ not  _going on any damn mission when I'm near my due date. You promised you'd be here you bastard!"_

"I know, Tasha. God, I know. And I will gladly make sure that Coulson goes fuck himself the next time," Clint replied, taking the seat beside Melinda. "Tell me about earlier, when you went into labour." The archer knew it would be an advantage to everyone if he could distract his red-haired wife, he would prevent anyone from being maimed.

" _Everything was fine when I got up. I fed Lucky. Had some Blueberry Waffles and yogurt. Then around 10.20, my waters broke. I called Ashley and she came and brought me to the hospital. Then she called Coulson."_

"Okay. Are they treating you okay?"

" _Most of them are afraid I'll kill them. I've snarled at a few. Although the nurse, Sarah, she hasn't been phased. Maybe because she's in her late forties. She's the only one not afraid of coming in to check on me."_

Clint grinned and continued to talk to her as May piloted the plane to Waverly…

* * *

Clint ran up to the maternity ward, almost colliding into the receptionist's desk. "I'm looking for Natasha Barton," he stated, breathless, worry obvious in his tone.

"Sorry, Sir, only immediate family are allowed," the young brunette replied snobbily.

"She's. My. Pregnant. Wife," he snarled back, watching the surprised look cross her face. "Now. Where. Is. She?"

"Take a left. Go straight down. Third on the right," she replied shakily, pointing towards the way she had directed.

Clint nodded and raced down the corridor. With each closer step, he could hear his wife shouting at the doctors in her mother tongue. He quickly entered and moved over to the bed, taking Natasha's hand in his. The red-head twisted her head in surprise but immediately relaxed when her eyes met her husband's. "Clint," she whispered with relief.

"I'm here, Baby," he replied, stroking her sweat-matted hair out of her face. "I'm here. Told you I'd be here for the birth of our baby."

Natasha grinned, her hand tightening around his. "You kept your promise," she whispered before biting back a scream as two contractions hit her quickly one after the other. "Fuck. You. Bastard. I'm having your duct tied after this," she growled at him, her eyes slipping closed at the contractions.

"Mrs. Barton," the doctor started, standing ready at the bottom of the bed, "You're fully dilated. On the next contraction, you need to push."

Natasha nodded, her head twisted towards her husband. Clint kept his hand in hers, using his free hand to stroke her forehead lovingly. Once the next contraction hit her, she started pushing….

* * *

"Just one more push, Baby," Clint whispered, stroking her face her lovingly. "Just one more and we'll have our baby."

"I can't," she sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "I can't, Clint." The pain reminded her of her time in the Red Room. She didn't want the birth of her baby to remind her of her past.

"Yes, you can. For our baby," Clint replied, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. "You can do this, Tasha. You're the strongest woman I know. You can do this."

The red-head let out a cry as she pushed one more time. She leaned against Clint as she sobbed out in relief. She frowned when she didn't hear a cry but her unspoken fear was immediately quenched when their baby decided to show off its lungs proudly. The twenty-two-year-old grinned against Clint's neck, watching the doctor and Sarah check the baby. Then the doctor walked back over to her and helped her through the after-birth and cleaning up her lower body.

Sarah wrapped the baby in a white towel before carrying it over to the new parents. "Congratulations Mr & Mrs Barton, you have a very healthy little boy," she informed them, handing Natasha the newborn.

Clint didn't even bother stopping the tears of happiness that fell from the corner of his eyes as he watched Natasha hold their baby boy for the first time. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, his left on top of Natasha's as their boy curled towards his mother.

"Hi Artyom Francis," Natasha whispered, stroking her son's face as he curled towards her touch. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the newborn, her green eyes tearing up with happiness. She had her own family, something she once thought the Red Room had stripped her of.

Clint pressed his lips to Natasha's temple, grinning happily against her skin. "Thank you, Tasha," he whispered hoarsely against her skin. "I love you so much. Thank you for giving me our family, Tasha."

Natasha finally tore her eyes away from their son to smile up at her husband. "I love you too, Clint," she whispered softly before kissing him lovingly. "Thank you," she added as she slowly pulled away. She interlaced her fingers with Clint's as they stroked Artyom's face lovingly.

The small family cuddled close as the doctor and midwife let them be, Clint's arms wrapped protectively around his family.

* * *

"Of course, Artyom would arrive before he was expected to," Barney teased as he and Ashley sat with the new family in their room. "It has to be a Barton thing. Both Clint and I arrived before our due date too."

"When we have kids, they better not arrive before their due date," Ashley started, twisting her head from where she was looking down at her new nephew. "Or you will be permanently in the doghouse," she warned.

Clint and Natasha both sniggered at the pout on Barney's face. The older Barton glared at the new parents before grinning as his nephew stretched in Ashley's arms. "Damn guys, you two make a damn cute kid," he stated, reaching out and stroking the newborn's face softly. He looked at Ashley with a small smile. "I want one too," he informed her, grinning at the shocked look on his fiancée's face.

"You want kids?" she asked, turning her head to look at Clint and Natasha who were laughing softly at the shocked look on the brunette's face. "I'm blaming this on you two," she added before twisting her head to look at her fiancée. "We'll talk about it when we get home," she told him, smiling at the hopeful grin on his face.

Suddenly, Artyom started crying in Ashley's arms. The brunette stood up and walked over to the bed, handing the newborn back to his mother.

Natasha glanced up at the clock before gently accepting the breastfeeding towel from her husband. Their son was exactly on time for his food.

"Definitely a Barton," Clint and Barney said at the same time, making every laugh while Artyom nursed his mother's breast…


	29. Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos :)
> 
> Artyom's date of birth is the 17th May 2007

Natasha smiled as she watched Clint walk around the room with Artyom against his chest. The archer was trying to get their son to sleep after his feeding. The one-day-old easily curled up in his father's arms, making content noises as his father gently rubbed his back and hummed an old lullaby.

Natasha slowly lay back against her pillows, scooting over when Clint approached the bed. She smiled up at him, signalling to him to climb in beside her. He slowly slid in beside her, his hands steady in their protective hold of their son. The red-head brought her left hand up and gently traced her fingers over Artyom's face lovingly.

Clint kissed Natasha's temple lovingly, smiling happily as she leaned into his touch. Their son was healthy, his Apgar a healthy nine. The archer was beyond happy that he had his own family. But he knew he had buried his fears for him to think about later.

"You need to sleep too, Clint," Natasha whispered, pressing her lips to his chest lovingly.

"I'm not tired," he replied honestly, smiling as his wife raised an eyebrow at him in reply. "I guess the adrenaline is still working," he added, smirking when the red-head shook her head playfully before returning her gaze to Artyom's sleeping form.

"He's gonna be a carbon copy of you," she whispered, her hand trailing through his spiky head of brown-blonde hair. "And he has a lot of hair."

"He has your nose," Clint replied, smiling happily when Natasha raised an amused eyebrow at him. "And he sleeps like you."

Natasha couldn't stop her snort of amusement. "Oh how could I forget your unusual need to watch me sleep," she teased, grinning at him before groaning when he pouted at her. "Don't do that, Clint. That's not fair."

"Sorry," he whispered before kissing her softly. "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too, Clint," she whispered against his lips, smiling as she slowly pulled away. She rested her head back in the crook of his neck, letting her eyes close as she felt herself begin to fall asleep, her son and herself safe in her husband's arms...

* * *

"Now this is a sight I thought I would never see," Coulson commented, smiling as he, Maria and Melinda entered the room only to find the new young family sleeping peacefully in the bed together. Natasha and Clint immediately opened their eyes and made to grab their hidden weapons before realising who had spoke. "Who could've guessed that the  _Black Widow_ and  _Hawkeye_  would look so domestic."

The couple rolled their eyes and Natasha moved so she could sit up. Clint followed, careful not to jostle Artyom awake. "And everyone thought that it would be you to become domesticated first," the archer shot back, smirking when Melinda and Phil froze at his words.

"Oh would you two quit it. I want to meet my Godson," Maria interrupted, both her and Natasha rolling their eyes at Clint and Phil's banter, "We didn't come here to listen to you and Clint argue. Again."

Natasha couldn't help but snort at Maria's comment. "Now, after all the years you've known the two of them, do you really think that they'd stop?"

Maria shook her head, grinning before Clint stood up and walked over to her, gently resting Artyom in the brunette's arms. "Wow," she whispered, her eyes flickering over the newborn's face. "You two made one cute baby. Kid, promise me that you won't wreck my head like your daddy."

"Artyom Francis," Natasha offered, smiling as she watched Maria coo to Artyom while he stretched in her arms. "He's gonna be a carbon copy of his dad."

Clint shook his head and wrapped his arms around Natasha's waist, holding her close as their son yawned in Maria's arms.

"He yawns like Clint too," Natasha added, smirking when everyone glanced at her, surprise written clearly over their faces. "Haha, you're all hilarious."

"God help us if he is like Clint," Melinda commented, grinning as the archer glared at her in reply.

"Why are you all picking on me?!" the archer exclaimed, pulling Natasha closer to him as he pouted. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Do we really need to tell you that?" Natasha teased, turning her head to smirk at her husband.

"You wound me," Clint accused, placing his hand over his heart.

"You still love me," she whispered, her eyes flickering over to their adopted family as Melinda gently took Artyom in her own arms. The red-head smiled as the older agent held the boy carefully in her arms. She was well aware of the longing look in Phil's eyes. The red-head couldn't help but wonder if that had been the reason Phil and Melinda had divorced: had the former wanted a child and the latter not? Or was it something worse?

Clint and Phil's eyes locked for a moment before the older agent's fell back to his ex-wife and his Godson/ adopted grandson. The archer knew that Phil and Melinda had had a chance to adopt back in late 1989: a six-month-old girl had been brought in after a mission had gone bad - a whole village destroyed by the target - and both Melinda and Phil had fallen in love with her. But their jobs had taken precedent. And Melinda had had a miscarriage eight months before the little girl was brought in. It had crushed the two older agents so much that they became distant and they divorced soon after they couldn't adopted the little girl.

Clint kissed Natasha's temple lovingly, holding her close as he watched his  _adopted_  parents coo to his one-day-old son. He smirked as the door opened once more, revealing none other than Director Nick Fury holding a bouquet of Casablanca lilies - and he was wearing civvies. And his eight-year-old son, Tyler.

"The flowers are for Natasha not you, Barton," the Director greeted, handing the bouquet to his  _'daughter'_  and kissing her cheek softly. He stepped back and shook hands with Clint before moving so he could discreetly - to anyone but those in the room - hold hands with Maria.

"Thanks Nick. Thanks Ty," Natasha replied before Clint could say anything. She handed the bouquet to her husband so he could put them in a vase before hugging Tyler, smiling at the eight-year-old as she kissed his cheek in big-sisterly thanks.

"And here I thought that any child of Barton's would be a loud one. Instead he's quiet and cooing," Nick observed, smirking as everyone chuckled at his words while Clint pouted.

"Mom," Tyler started, leaning into Maria as the brunette leaned down and wrapped her arms around the eight-year-old. "Do I have to go back to _the other one_?" He pouted honestly, wrapping his arms around her neck.

Maria pulled Tyler closer and looked at Nick and Natasha for their opinion. The red-head looked towards her  _father_ , noticing the conflicted look on the Director's face.

Nick leaned down so he was level with Tyler and Maria. "Ty, you know that Maria and I have very dangerous jobs. If they weren't as dangerous as they were you know that I'd make sure you never had to leave us," he whispered, brushing his hand over his son's face.

"You know we love you, Ty, don't you?" Maria whispered, pressing her lips to Tyler's temple. "We need you safe and healthy."

Tyler nodded, burying his face in Maria's chest, holding her as close as was possible. "It's just...  _the other one_ isn't nice. She doesn't love me," he mumbled loudly against the fabric of Maria's shirt.

The adults all looked at each other, surprised at Tyler's words.

"What do you mean she doesn't love you, Ty?" Natasha asked, noticing Clint tensing beside her. The two didn't like where this conversation was going.

Instead of answering, Tyler showed them his back. Clint's hand clenched around Natasha's, the scars all-too-familiar to the archer.

Nick bit the inside of his lip hard, pulling his son into a protective hug. "I won't let her hurt you again, son. Okay?" the Director whispered hoarsely, keeping his arms wrapped protectively around Tyler.

Tyler nodded, leaning into Nick's touch and Maria's when the latter pressed her lips to the back of the eight-year-old's head.

Natasha placed a soothing hand on Clint's chest, pressing a kiss to his neck to try to soothe his rapid heartbeat.

By now, Phil was holding Artyom, the suit walking over to Clint and placing the newborn in the archer's arms. Natasha nodded her gratitude, watching her husband easily relax as he held their son.

The red-head caught Melinda's eye, the two flicking their eyes between the Hill-Fury's and Clint and Artyom. Both knew this was going to have repercussions for both...

* * *

"I'm going to show Artyom around the house," Clint said to Natasha as they entered their home.

The red-head nodded and made her way into the kitchen, grinning when she found Lucky waited obediently at the door, his tail waggling happily as she entered the room. "Well boy, did you miss us?" she asked rhetorically, petting the Lab as she walked by him.

Lucky leaned willingly up into Natasha's hand, lapping at her fingers before she pulled away and made her way over to the cupboard where Lucky's dog treats were.

After she'd given the Lab his threat, the red-head checked the fridge to decide what she would cook for herself and Clint. Smirking, she noticed that there was chicken, making it easy for her to choose what they'd be having for dinner...

* * *

"And this will be your room,  _Little Hawk_ ," Clint whispered as he entered the nursery. "We'll be mostly based in New York City and D.C. but when we're here, this will be your room." The archer knew that his son couldn't understand his words but he felt the need to tell him everything he'd need to know.

Artyom blinked, his greyish green eyes unfocused as Clint walked around the nursery. The newborn's fingers gripped on the fabric of his father's plaid shirt, curling towards the archer's heat.

Clint walked over to the window, softly kissing the top of Artyom's head. The archer smiled as his two-day-old son blinked up at him, studying the twenty-eight-year-old's face, his young eyes unfocused. The older of the two smiled as Artyom yawned, his eyes slipping closed aa he fell asleep.

Slowly and quietly, Clint made his way out of the nursery, down the hall and downstairs. He smiled as he entered the kitchen, finding his wife at the hob, cooking their dinner.

"I can feel your eyes on me, Mr. Barton," Natasha called out softly, twisting her head slightly to smile at her husband and their son. "Did he get bored of the tour?"

Clint chuckled and nodded, walking over to his wife and kissing her softly. "Mmmm. I'm going to miss having you barefoot and pregnant in our kitchen," he whispered against her lips.

"I bet," she purred, smirking at her husband knowingly. She cocked her head and pressed her lips to Artyom's temple. She slowly pulled away and turned back to stir the curry while Clint rubbed Lucky's head. She couldn't help but think that she could get used to this...

* * *

Clint smiled as he exited the bathroom, finding his wife and their son in their bed, the latter nursing hungrily from his mother. The archer's grey eyes studied the two, his soft smile growing at the sight of his small family. He noticed Lucky at the bottom of the bed, the one-eyed Lab watching the younger two of his three owners protectively.

Slowly, the archer made his way over to the bed, sliding in beside his wife. The red-head grinned sleepily at her husband, leaning her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist lovingly.

Clint kissed Natasha's temple lovingly while gently trailing his left hand along the side of Artyom's face. The two-day-old brought his hand, which was holding onto his mother's breast, up to grab at his father's ring finger, obviously fascinated by the shine of Clint's weddig ring.

The archer smiled at Artyom when the latter opened his eyes, his grip tightening around Clint's finger.

Natasha smiled as she observed her husband and son interact while Artyom nursed. Artyom blinked up at her when she chuckled, her own hand joining Clint's as the two-day-old pulled away from his mother's breast, showing his parents that he was full.

Clint gently took Artyom into his arms, gently patting his back to help get up any trapped air while Natasha closed the button-up shirt she was wearing - a plaid shirt that had, once upon a time, belonged to Clint. The red-head smiled and moved so she was lying on her side, watching her husband and son interact. Once the archer was satisfied that Artyom had gotten it all up, he moved so he was on his back with his son lying on his chest.

Natasha smiled and reached up to trail her hand over the back of Artyom's head lovingly. She pressed her lips against Clint's shoulder, closing her eyes while resting her hand on her son's back protectively.

Clint kept one arm wrapped around Natasha's waist while his other hand lay on top of his wife's on their son's back. He twisted his head to press a soft kiss to the crown of Natasha's head before gently kissing Artyom's head.

"You know that he'll wake us when he's hungry or needs a diaper change," Natasha whispered sleepily to Clint, surprising the archer. "You're not your father, мой ястреб. And you need to sleep too."

"But -..." he began to protest but Natasha cut him off by pressing her lips to his.

"Please sleep," she whispered against his lips, rubbing her nose against his as she pulled away.

Clint nodded, pulling her closer as she returned to her previous position. The archer smiled as Natasha pressed her lips against his shoulder again.

The small family fell asleep in that position, knowing they were safe with each other...

* * *

Natasha smiled as she watched her husband and son sleep peacefully, Artyom lying comfortably on Clint's chest. Silently, the red-head took out her phone and snapped a pic of her two favourite men, setting it as her wallpaper.

Clint grunted and looked over at his wife, smirking at her knowingly when he noticed her phone in her hand. "Playing a voyeur now?" he mumbled, his voice husky with sleep.

"Maybe," she replied, walking over to the couch where Clint had been napping with Artyom. "I picked up a few things in town," she added as she leaned down and pecked her husband's lips lovingly. "And I brought Lucky for a walk."

"You look refreshed," Clint mumbled softly, his eys flickering over his wife's body. She was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt - one of his. She looked like the stereotypical farm wife.

"I feel like it," she replied, stroking her left hand over Artyom's back. "It's hard to believe that he's two weeks old."

"Still smells like he was born yesterday," the archer replied, his eyes fluttering closed. "He sleeps like you."

"Sleep, Clint. I'll be in the gym if you need me."

"You're not s'posed to do anything major yet," he protested sleepily.

"Ballet isn't heavy. I spoke to Eva, she said it was fine for an hour a day. So I'm good to go."

"Remind me to thank Dr. Santos for helping you when I brought you in."

"You helped me more. It's just that Eva is the only doctor in S.H.I.E.L.D. who I trust. Who we both trust. Now go back to sleep."

"Love you, Tasha."

"I love you too, Clint," Natasha whispered, pressing her lips to his once more before pulling a blanket over her husband and son. She kissed the back of Artyom's head lovingly before making her way out of the living-room and down to the gym, satisfied that Artyom and Clint were safe and sleeping...

* * *

 _Us against the world  
_ _Against the world  
_ _Us against the world  
_ _Against the world_

 _You and I, we've been at it so long  
_ _I still got the strongest fire  
_ _You and I, we still know how to talk  
_ _Know how to walk that wire_

 _Sometimes I feel like The world is against me  
_ _The sound of your voice, baby  
_ _That's what saves me  
_ _When we're together I feel so invincible_

 _Cause it's us against the world  
_ _You and me against them all  
_ _If you listen to these words  
_ _Know that we are standing tall  
_ _I don't ever see the day that  
_ _I won't catch you when you fall  
_ _Cause it's us against the world tonight  
_ _Us against the world  
_ _Against the world_

 _There'll be days  
_ _We'll be on different sides but  
_ _That doesn't last too long  
_ _We find ways to get it on track  
_ _And know how to turn back on_

 _Sometimes I feel  
_ _I can't keep it together  
_ _Then you hold me close  
_ _And you make it better  
_ _When I'm with you  
_ _I can feel so unbreakable_

 _Cause it's us against the world  
_ _You and me against them all  
_ _If you listen to these words  
_ _Know that we are standing tall  
_ _I don't ever see the day that  
_ _I won't catch you when you fall  
_ _Cause it's us against the world tonight_

 _We're not gonna break  
_ _Cause we both still believe  
_ _We know what we've got  
_ _And we've got what we need alright  
_ _We're doing something right..._

 _Cause it's us against the world  
_ _You and me against them all  
_ _If you listen to these words  
_ _Know that we are standing tall  
_ _I don't ever see the day that  
_ _I won't catch you when you fall_

 _Cause it's us against the world tonight (_ _Us against the world)  
_ _You and me against them all  
_ _If you listen to these words  
_ _Know that we are standing tall  
_ _I don't ever see the day that  
_ _I won't catch you when you fall  
_ _Us against the world  
_ _Yeah it's Us against the world, baby  
_ _Us against the world  
_ _Tonight_

 _Us against the world  
_ _Against the world  
_ _Us against the world_

* * *

"Look, Artyom, that's your mom. She had a bad childhood. I did too. But you'll never have to," Clint whispered softly to his son. The archer was standing in the doorway, his son in his arms as the former watched his wofe as she moved around the gym. "You're the most precious gift your mom and I have except for each other."

Little did Clint know that despite the music, Natasha could concentrate on his lips. And she couldn't agree more with his words...


	30. Family

Clint grinned and caught Tyler, lifting the eight-year-old up above his head like an aeroplane. The archer ran around with the kid, Tyler laughing happily in delight.

"Imagine, when Artyom's old enough, Clint will be doing that to him," Maria commented, making Natasha twist her head and glare weakly at the brunette.

"Don't remind me. He's already five-weeks-old," Natasha replied, her eyes softening as they flickered over to her son who was sleeping peacefully in his mobile bassinet. "Clint's already gotten him different bows to play with and use when he's older," she added, making Maria chuckle in response.

"And you still spoil the two of them," the twenty-five-year-old teased, grinning at the rare blush on the red-head's face.

"Any word about custody and Tyler's mom?" Natasha replied, watching said eight-year-old being distracted by Clint and Lucky. "Nick's not here but you and Tyler are. Is Nick still fighting for sole custody?"

"And dealing with The Council, yes. Tyler refused to go to Julia. She kicked up a fuse. And then everyone – lawyers, police, social services – heard Tyler shout that he didn't want to be hurt by her anymore. Looks like we're going to have little to argue. Tyler has made it clear he doesn't want to be near her. And what she did to him."

Natasha nodded. "Clint spent three hours in the range when we got home. After dinner and while Artyom was nursing. He worships that kid. And Adriana. The sooner you and Nick get custody the better."

Maria nodded, her eyes flickering over to her step-son. "He was afraid to even look at her. The child physiologist said that he fears that Julia has done more damage than we can see," she whispered hoarsely. "Tyler did nothing. He's just a kid."

Natasha reached over, wrapping her hand around Maria's – the red-head was getting better at the comforting thing. "And now we know what Tyler needs protecting from. And we can all give it to him," she told her, watching the brunette carefully. "We know what we are all fighting against."

Maria took a deep breath and nodded. "We know what we're fighting against," she repeated….

* * *

"He's doing very well," Eva commented, grinning at Natasha and Clint. "He's a quiet kid, calm. You've struck it lucky so far that he hasn't pick up any of Clint's traits yet," she added, making Clint pout as he gently bounced Artyom in his arms.

"Don't be mean, Eva. It doesn't suit you," Clint shot back, earning a grin from the doctor and his wife.

"Let's just hope that he doesn't start prank wars when he eventually starts school," Natasha commented, stroking Artyom's face lovingly as the six-week-old sucked on his small fist while his free hand gripped onto Clint's shirt. "I deal with enough paperwork of that problem with his father."

"Your mother's being mean to me, son," Clint whispered softly to Artyom, grinning at Natasha when she raised an eyebrow at him. "You still love me though. You won't be mean to your daddy."

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully before turning back to Eva who was smirking knowingly at the small family. "How's Adriana?"

"She can't wait to meet Artyom. She's been begging all week."

"Sorry we called you all the way out here," the red-head apologised, grinning as Artyom made a sound of content in his father's arms.

"Don't. Declan was from Waverly so I was coming out to visit my in-laws anyways. You just sped up the schedule," Eva replied, grinning when Clint and Natasha raised surprised eyebrows at her. "So will I be able to bring Adriana to visit? Because she is testing my patience."

"Whenever you're free," Natasha replied, smiling back at the Latino doctor before Artyom distracted her, grabbing Clint's left hand and trying to suck on his father's wedding ring. "Мой Маленький Ястреб, you're not supposed to try and swallow your papa's ring," she whispered, grinning when her son stopped and grinned at her toothlessly.

"And now is when I kick father and son out so I can do mommy's check-up," Eva started, raising an eyebrow when Clint pouted before grinning when he realised what Natasha's check-up meant.

Clint nodded and slowly stood up, making sure not to jostle Artyom. "See you in a few minutes, Сексуальная Мама," he whispered, pecking his wife's lips before taking the diaper bag with him.

Natasha and Eva shook their heads at Clint's actions. "Do all men do that when their partners reach the six week check-up?" the red-head asked, raising an eyebrow at her doctor.

"Yes. Most do. They often get a goofy stupid little grin. Sometimes it's cute and sometimes just plain ugly. But I think Clint's will be a cute, shy one," Eva replied, motioning for Natasha to take a seat on the examination table. "Please don't tell him that I said that," she added with a grin.

"That would inflate his ego," Natasha replied…

* * *

Clint smiled as he pressed his lips to Artyom's head softly, the six-week-old cooing quietly against his father's neck. The archer tightened his hold slightly, relaxing his body as his son pressed his hands against his chest. Even after six weeks, Clint still needed a moment to adjust every time Artyom touched his chest. But it wasn't taking him as long as usual. Which was a personal success for the twenty-eight-year-old.

The archer paid little attention to the three women who were eyeballing him, lust and desire clearly evident in their body language and eyes. The older women were watching him with approval as he catered to his son. He kept a watchful eye, checking for any threats but he found none. But he still couldn't help his instinct.

Artyom reached up and tugged lightly on Clint's chain – one Natasha had bought her husband for his twenty-eighth birthday. The archer bent his head, smiling at his son while Artyom stared at the shining silver with fascinated eyes. "What do you say about me bringing you and Mama for dinner, Маленький Ястреб?" the archer whispered rhetorically to his son. In reply, Artyom stuffed the chain in his mouth, sucking sloppily on the piece of jewellery. "Yeah, I agree."

Something caught Artyom's eye, making the six-week-old reach behind Clint. The archer turned to make sure it was safe only to meet the amused eyes of his wife. "You're as amusing as ever, Mr. Barton," she greeted, grinning as she gently took Artyom into her arms. "Were you good for your Papa, Мой Маленький Ястреб?" she whispered softly, kissing her son's cheek lovingly.

"Everything okay?" Clint asked, glancing between Natasha and Eva.

"I'm fine, Мой Ястреб," Natasha replied before turning back to Eva. "Thank you. For everything," the red-head said, smiling at the Latino doctor.

"No problem," Eva replied, grinning as she stroked Artyom's face softly. "Don't wreck your parents' heads, kiddo," she told the baby. "God knows they get enough of that at work." She lifted her head to face Natasha and Clint. "I'll see you sometime during the week. I'll call beforehand though," she informed them, smirking when the two of the deadliest people she knew blushed at what she meant.

Natasha and Clint bid their farewells before making their way outside. Natasha entertained Artyom while her husband carried the bag. She could see that her Hawk was itching to ask her. But she was going to prolong his torture. Just for another few minutes.

Once Artyom was safely strapped into his car seat, Clint turned to Natasha expectedly. "What?" the red-head asked, feigning innocence.

The archer stepped closer, resting his hands on her hips. "Don't play innocent with me, Mrs. Barton. Can I or can't I make love to you tonight?" he whispered, resting his forehead against his wife's.

Natasha bit her bottom lip purposely before slowly nibbling her husband's lips teasingly. She grinned as she whispered huskily against his lips, "We're good to do whatever you want to do in the bedroom."

"Yeah?" Clint whispered, grinning against her lips when she nodded. He wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, pulling Natasha closer to him. "I love you so much, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, pulling away to press his forehead against hers.

"I love you too, Mr. Barton," she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his. "You said you were bringing us out for dinner?" she whispered as she slowly pulled away.

"Are you hungry, Mrs. Barton?" Clint teased, grinning when she nodded. "Then I'm going to feed you..."

* * *

Natasha smiled as she watched Clint put Artyom down in his crib, their son already asleep before his head hit the pillow. The archer pressed a soft kiss to Artyom's temple before pulling away and walking over to his wife. "Hi Сексуальная Мама," he whispered, kissing her softly in greeting.

"Hi мой красивый ястреб," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck. She rubbed her nose against Clint's, smiling when he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"I have the baby monitor set up in the bathroom," he whispered, grinning when Natasha frowned in confusion. "I have a bath ready for you. With all your favourite oils and those scented candles you love," he explained, making Natasha smile and kiss him softly in appreciation.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips, pulling away to smile at her husband. "You gonna wash my back?"

"And everywhere else," he replied, suddenly picking his wife up bridal-style. "I love you, Сексуальная Мама," he whispered, gently shutting shutting the door to the nursery. He carried his wife into their bedroom and en-suite bathroom, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"I love you too, Мой Ястреб," she whispered, pressing soft kisses to his neck. She grinned at him as he reluctantly set her down on her feet. "You didn't have to do all of this, Clint," she whispered, turning slightly as she took in the scene her husband had created.

"You deserved it. You gave me a family, Tasha. You deserve hearts and flowers and everything the Red Room tried to take away from you. And I'm honoured that you let me be the chance to give all of that to you," he whispered, cupping her cheeks and kissing her lovingly.

"You gave me everything, Clint," she replied, leaning into his touch, smiling up at him. "I don't need hearts and flowers. I need you and Artyom…. And Lucky."

Clint chuckled at her inclusion of the Lab. "Can I spoil you every now and again?" he whispered, rubbing his nose along hers.

"Just not on base. Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton have reputations. And don't have a son. And are not married…."

"But Natasha Barton is married to Clint Barton. And they have a son. And a dog."

"Sounds like the stereotypical American Dream," he whispered softly.

Natasha grinned and kissed him again. Then she pulled away. "Bath," she stated simply when her husband raised his eyebrow in surprise at her actions. The archer grinned and watched Natasha slowly begin to strip.

"Now you're just being a tease," he commented, his eyes trailing over Natasha's body appreciatively. "Tasha," he growled huskily.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she replied, smirking at him knowingly.

The archer was immediate in his response. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He approached his wife as she teasingly bent over and pulled her jeans down over the curve of her ass. He pulled her back against him, leaning down so his front was on her back. "Are you teasing me, Mrs. Barton?" he whispered huskily in her ear.

Natasha responded by grinding her ass against the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. She grinned when he growled, the archer pulling her upright as he wrapped his arms firmly around her waist. "Tasha," he warned.

The red-head dropped her jeans, bringing her hands back to undo Clint's jeans, smirking when she heard his breath hitch in his throat. "I want to have a nice relaxing bath with you," she replied huskily, twisting her head and grinning up at her husband. "You just seem to keep getting distracted,  _Sir_ ," she purred.

Clint stepped out of his jeans when they hit the floor, Natasha doing the same when he gave her enough room to move. The archer growled low in his chest when he noticed the deep purple lingerie Natasha was wearing, said red-head turning and smirking at him, realising that he had noticed that she was wearing his favourite colour. " _Sir_?"

Clint pulled her to him, bringing his hands up to her upper back, undoing her bra with deftly skilled fingers. The lace quickly fell from Natasha's chest and Clint moved his hands to Natasha's waist. He smirked at her when she rested her hands on his hips, her index fingers and thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. "Am I allowed rip these?" he whispered, pulling on the waistband of her lacy thong.

Natasha immediately frowned and shook her head. "Nope. You're not ripping any more of my lingerie. They're too expensive for that," she replied, shaking her head at him when he pouted.

"But I'd buy you more," he replied, protesting but Natasha only shook her head, pulling his boxers down and pushing him towards the bath.

"No. Now get in the tub," she replied, pulling her thong off and stepping into the bathtub. Clint followed her, taking his place before she sat down in between his legs, leaning against her husband's chest while he reached for the oils. The red-head quickly pulled her long red locks up into a bun, leaning her head back on Clint's shoulder.

Clint poured a generous amount of oil – a mix of lavender and vanilla – on his hands before massaging it into Natasha's front. His archery roughened fingers worked the oil along her stomach and breasts. She arched into his touch, moaning softly as he worked her body lovingly. She rested her hands on his thighs, her thumbs drawing random circles on his skin.

The archer pressed a soft kiss to the back of his wife's neck, slowly bringing his hands down over her hips and along her shapely thighs. He grinned when Natasha twisted her head, kissing the side of her husband's neck as he worked her skin with the oil. She smiled against his skin, her eyes closed in content pleasure of her husband's hands on her.

"You gonna fall asleep on me, Baby?" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"No. You're just really good at massages," she replied, her body relaxed in her husband's safe touch. She mentally snickered at that thought; Clint was the greatest marksman in the world and she always thought of his touch as safe. The irony of it all. She moaned when her husband sneakily slid two fingers along her slit, teasing her, testing how comfortable she was.

Natasha gasped at Clint's teasing, moving her hands to grasp at her husband's muscled arm. Her body arched away from his, her eyes closed in pleasure.

Clint brought his other hand up to tease Natasha's breasts, grinning when she moaned his name softly in reply. The red-head groaned when he tugged teasingly on her nipples, the sensation sent liquid warmth to the apex of her thighs. He worked a third finger inside her, crooking his callused digits against her G-spot.

"Wanna feel you come for me, Tasha," he whispered in her ear. "Wanna feel you come all over my fingers." He worried her clit with his thumb. Natasha's hands gripped his hard, her hips moving in time with his hand. Her breathing was deepening, her body curling towards Clint's touch. She could feel the all too familiar feeling of the pooling of heat in her lower stomach, signalling her oncoming orgasm.

"Clint. Please," she gasped, her self-control quickly disappearing at her husband's touch. "Make me come. Please."

Clint brought his other hand down and pinched Natasha's clit while sucking on her earlobe. "Come for me, Baby. Come all over my fingers, Natasha," he ordered, his own breathing deep and husky. "Come for me, Tasha."

The red-head cried out as she came, her walls clenching hard around her husband's fingers. Her body trembled in her husband's arms, shaking as she came hard for him. Clint pressed soft kisses to the length of her jaw, sucking gently on her skin. He slowly continued to move his fingers inside her, bringing her down from her high gently.

Natasha relaxed into her husband's touch, panting heavily as she tried to regain coherent thought. Suddenly, she pulled away from Clint. "I want you to make love to me in our bed," she told him, moving so she was straddling him. "I want you," she repeated in between kisses, "In. Our. Bed."

Clint grinned against her lips. "Of course," he whispered, grinning happily as he let her stand up so they could both get out of the tub. He pulled out the plug and let the water down the drain before climbing out of the tub. He grabbed a large towel, pulling Natasha against him and using it to dry the two of them. They traded loving kisses, taking their time to enjoy each other. They'd had a busy six weeks, adapting to the busy lives of being parents. Now they were taking time to just be themselves.

Once they were dry, Clint suddenly picked Natasha up in his arms, carrying her out into their bedroom. He grabbed the baby monitor and placing it on the bedside locker. He gently laid her down on their bed, kissing his way up her body until he reached her chest, kneeling on the bed beside her. He latched his lips to her left tit, sucking gently on the nipple. He pulled away slightly after tasting fluid in his mouth, resting his head against Natasha's chest.

"That doesn't actually taste too bad," he whispered against her chest, smiling as she chuckled slightly at his comment.

"You're such a kinky fucker," she replied, pulling him up to kiss her. "Quick teasing. I want you inside me," she whispered, making him grin against her lips. He placed his hands on either side of her head, allowing him to lean over her dominantly but also lovingly.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, kissing her softly.

Natasha brought her hands up to her husband's hands, interlacing their fingers. "Make love to me, Clinton," she whispered softly, gently breaking the kiss so she could look him in the eye. "Make love to me."

"Always," he replied, reaching between them and positioning himself at her entrance. Slowly, he gently pushed inside her. Once the archer bottomed out inside his wife, Clint stilled, watching Natasha's face for any sign of discomfort. He found none. But that didn't stop him from asking. "You okay, Love?"

Natasha smiled and nodded. "Yes. You stretch me enough in the bath to prevent any discomfort," she replied, leaning up to continue her whisper in his ear, "To make sure your big, fat cock fit right into my cunt."

Clint growled at Natasha's husky words. He interlaced his free hand with hers once more, groaning when she wrapped her perfectly shaped thighs around his lean waist. He slowly pulled out of her until only the head of his cock was inside her. Then he slid back inside her. They both groaned out at the sensation, the two reacquainting themselves with the family of each other.

"Clint," Natasha gasped, her back arching under her husband, leaning into his body. "Yes. Yes, oh god. Yes. Please. Clint," she sobbed, tightening her legs, bringing them further up his back.

"You feel so good, Tasha," he moaned, breaking the kiss slightly so he could catch his breath. He rested his forehead on hers, smiling as she sobbed out his name in pleasure. She nipped and suck on his bottom lip, the pooling of heat in her groin returning for the second time in the past hour. "Wanna feel you come for me again, Tasha. Want to feel you come on my cock this time. Please. Tasha."

Natasha whimpered and nodded, trying to pull him closer. "Clint. Come. With. Me. This. Time," she gasped between pants, her body beginning to quiver around him. "Please, Clint. Want you to fill me up."

Clint claimed Natasha's lips in a hungry loving kiss as his wife suddenly came around his cock, her quiver, fluttering walls pulling him into his own orgasm. They called out each other's names in the other's mouth, collapsing against each other as they rode out their highs. The archer rocked his hips into Natasha's, prolonging his wife's pleasure.

Natasha brought her hands from Clint's, trailing one hand through his spiky hair while the other rested against his rapid heartbeat. They kissed softly, smiling against each other's mouths, taking their time to enjoy each other….

* * *

Natasha smiled as she lay on Clint's chest, her head resting above his heart. Her left hand was trailing random patterns on his abdomen. The archer had his arms wrapped around her waist lovingly and protectively, his mouth pressed against the curls on the top of her head.

"Hmmm. Tash. Is Maria and Tyler coming over tomorrow?" Clint asked suddenly, frowning slightly as he tried to think of what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. "Or is it Eva and Adriana that's coming over?"

"Both," she replied, closing her eyes and sighing in contentment at the feeling of her husband's arms around her waist. "Mmm… I think Maria's pregnant," Natasha commented, surprising her husband. "She's taken the past six weeks off work. Which she applied for before Tyler let it out that he'd been abused by Julia. And she hasn't been on a mission except for damage control in the last three months."

"If you're right… I'll give up pranking Coulson for a year."

"I'm always right, Clint," she replied with a grin, leaning up and pecking his lips softly. "Ashley and Barney are moving to New York as well. Ashley's offered to babysit Artyom for us when we're both out on missions," she added, returning to her spot on his chest.

"They are just moving because of us, are they?" Clint asked, trying to think of how to ask his brother and future sister-in-law why they were moving.

"No. Barney's been transfer to New York. And Ashley's contract is over at the end of August. So they've decided to move. It could be an advantage for all of us."

"Mmmm. Speaking of which, when is Artyom due to wake up?" Clint asked. And as if he had heard, the couple heard their son wail over the baby monitor.

Natasha glanced at the clock, grinning when she noticed that it wasn't Artyom's feeding time. Yet. She turned back to her husband just as he opened his mouth. "If you dare quote  _The Lion King_ , you're sleeping on the couch. Or one of the spare rooms," she warned, making Clint shut his mouth quickly. "That's what I thought," she added, rolling off of her husband as he got up off the bed and grabbed a pair of clean boxers, pulling them on. Natasha hummed appreciatively, her eyes running over her husband's fit, compacted muscled body.

"Like the view, Tash?" he called out as he exited their bedroom and made his way over to Artyom's nursery. He quickly and quietly made his way over to his son. Efficiently, he stripped Artyom out of his onesie and changed his wet diaper. Then redressed him in a clean onesie. Holding the six-week-old against his chest, Clint sang an old lullaby softly, walking out of the nursery and into the master bedroom.

He was greeted with the sight of his wife resting on her side, wearing her nightshirt – originally his – and smiling at him as he entered the room. She slowly sat up as he approached the bed, the archer gently handing Artyom to her, their son whining slightly at the movement but immediately relaxing when he recognised his mother's touch. Clint leaned down and kissed Natasha softly before climbing into the bed behind her.

Natasha relaxed back against Clint's chest, the red-head pulling aside her shirt so Artyom could nurse. She smiled as she felt Clint press a soft kiss to the back of her neck, his arms on top of hers as she held their son. Artyom's small body relaxed further into his mother's, his grey-green eyes sliding closed as he nursed. He kept suckling, his small fists clenched around the fabric of his mother's plaid nightshirt.

Clint grinned happily as he held his small family close. He noticed Lucky walk into the bedroom, the Lab gently leaping onto the bed and curling up on the base, his one eye focused on his owners. Lucky was very protective of Natasha and Artyom, rarely letting either out of his sight.

"We can't leave Lucky here when we return to New York, Clint," Natasha suddenly said, making Clint look back down to find his wife glancing up at him. "I can't stand the idea of leaving him here. I want to bring him with us."

"He's part of our family," Clint agreed with a smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "We don't leave our family on their own."

Natasha nodded, grinning as she looked back down of the bundle of joy in her arms. She silently made that promise to her little boy; neither she nor Clint would ever let Artyom ever have their life of a lonely childhood. No matter who tried to hurt him, Natasha and Clint would always keep him safe. And it was a promise they would always fulfil…

* * *

 _There's a laugh in my eyes_  
There's a waltz in my walk  
And it's been such a long time  
Since there was hope in my talk  
If you never knew  
What it is that's new.. it's you

 _'Cause when your hands are in mine_  
You set a fire that everyone can see  
And it's burning away  
Every bad memory  
To tell you the truth  
If it's something new.. baby it's you

 _It's you in the morning_  
It's you in the night  
A beautiful angel came down  
To light up my life

 _The world's a different place_  
Where nothing's too hard to say  
And nothing's to hard to do  
Never too much to go through  
To tell you the truth  
Everything that's new.. baby it's you

 _It's you in the morning_  
It's you in the night  
A beautiful angel came down  
To light up my life  
My life, my life

_Ohh_

_So if I get to grow old (oh if I get to grow old)_  
With many years behind me (many years behind me)  
There's only one thing I want (aahh)  
One thing I need beside me  
For all that you are  
For everything you do  
For all that you've done  
Just for showing me the truth

 _It's you_  
It's you  
Baby it's you


	31. Round Three - BlackHawk vs the Red Room Pt 1

Natasha smiled as she gently took Artyom into her arms, the six-week-old cooing in her arms. She held him close, gently patting his back as she made her way out of the living-room. She smirked to herself, looking out the window to find Clint throwing a tennis ball for Lucky while Tyler and Adrianna chased after the Labrador.

She walked out onto the porch where Maria and Eva were chatting, the two older women grinning at the new mother as she exited the house. "That suits you, Nat," Maria commented, grinning when Natasha raised an eyebrow at the assistant director.

"You gonna admit what I've been assuming for the past two weeks?" Natasha replied, smirking when Maria's eyes widened slightly.

"I've no idea what you're on about," Maria lied, turning her head to watch Tyler do a cartwheel. "You really know no boundaries, Nat," she added, turning and narrowing her eyes at the red-head.

"I'm a spy, it's part of the job," Natasha replied, grinning as she took her seat once more. "And taking requested leave, which you requested before we found out about Tyler, is highly suspicious to somebody like me," she added, kissing the top of Artyom's head lovingly.

"And wearing flowy tops is another dead giveaway," Eva added, grinning when Maria turned her glare on the doctor. "Have you and Nick told Tyler yet?"

"No, not yet," Maria replied, playing with the hem of her top and biting the inside of her lip. "We were going to wait until after the court ruling to tell him."

Both Natasha and Eva nodded just before they were interrupted by Adriana, Tyler, Clint and Lucky. Clint leaned down and kissed the top of Artyom's head before kissing Natasha. Maria and Eva smirked at each other knowingly at the archer's public display of affection, knowing they would not see it as Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff.

"Mama, Mama, Mama, can we get a doggy like Lucky?" Adriana asked, climbing into her mother's lap. Eva raised an eyebrow, subtly glaring at Clint when the archer grinned. "Pwease, Mama. I wanna get a doggy too. Can we pwease?"

"I don't know, Baby," Eva replied, leaning her forehead against her daughter's. "I'll think about it."

Tyler had perched himself in Maria's lap, his eyes sliding closed as his step-mother wrapped her arms around his waist. The twenty-five-year-old pressed her lips to the back of his head, grinning when he placed his hands on top of hers.

"Mom," Tyler suddenly spoke, twisting his head to look at Maria. "When's Daddy gonna be here?" The eight-year-old pouted, twisting his body so he could bury his face in his step-mother's neck.

"Soon, Baby," she whispered, tightening her hold on her step-son. She kissed his temple, smiling softly when he yawned and began to play with her loose locks while she rested her cheek against his forehead.

Clint and Natasha shared a look as the red-head hummed to Artyom, her son playing with her rings. They noticed that Tyler was growing tired; it was past seven in the evening and Maria had told them that he hadn't been sleeping well because he missed Nick.

"Maria, why don't you and Tyler stay here tonight?" Clint offered, just as Adriana jumped into his lap. "We have more than enough room."

Maria looked down at Tyler. He was fast asleep. "Okay. Thank you. Both of you," she replied, smiling at Clint and Natasha.

Natasha returned her smile before gently handing Artyom to Clint. The proud father grinned as he took his son in his arms. "Come on, I'll show you your rooms and lend you something to wear," the red-head said to Maria, smiling when Adriana jumped up, wanting to go with her adopted aunts.

Maria nodded and stood up, taking care not to jostle Tyler as she moved. Natasha took Adriana's hand in hers, leading the little girl into the house and upstairs with Maria and Tyler in tow...

* * *

Natasha moaned as Clint brushed his lips over her body, barely a hair's breath between them. She was tied eagle-spread to the bed in their playroom. They had their chance to play for the first time since six weeks before their son was born. And Clint was going all out.

The red-head bit back a gasp as Clint turned up the vibrator against her clit while gently working the anal beads inside her. She tried not to move, as per her husband's order, but his actions were testing her sensitised sex. "Master. Clint?" she tried, her voice coming out in a whimper. "Can I come now?"

"No. Not yet," he replied, kissing his way over her sensitive breasts, smiling when she whimpered his name in response. "You're such a good girl, Tasha," he whispered against her skin. "So good for me. So wet. You look so good tied up like a present for me."

Natasha moaned at her husband's words, closing her eyes while he kissed his way down her body. He pulled the vibrator slightly away from her clit, teasing her by pressing a wet kiss to her entrance instead.

Suddenly, he pressed three fingers inside her cunt while pushing the vibrator hard against her clit. The red-head practically screamed at the sudden attack of pleasure on her sex, her whole body convulsing as she came hard.

Clint grinned as he worked his wife through her orgasm, smirking when a sudden gush of warm liquid escaped Natasha and hit his lower thorso and thighs. He leaned down and kissed her sternum lovingly as she squirmed underneath him.

"Shit. Clint. Ugnnh. Black. Black. Black," she chanted, her body arching up to Clint's. She couldn't think. Couldn't see. All because of the pleasure her husband was giving her.

Gently, Clint slowed the movement of his hand and removed the vibrator from Natasha's sensitive clit. He carefully removed his fingers from inside her, kissing his way up her body until he reached her lips. He smiled against her mouth as she moaned his name, whimpering in pleasure at his touch.

"You're such a naughty girl for me, Mrs. Barton," he whispered as he pulled away, climbing off the bed. "You got me all dirty. What should I do now?" he teased, glancing down at his lower body which was still covered with her juices.

Natasha's eyes darkened as they slid over the view that was below her husband's waist, her juices on his body shining in the low light of the playroom. His erection stood proudly at attention, precum obvious on the head. "Whatever you want, Master," she purred, grinning up at him when he growled, noticing her appreciative gaze.

"Mmmm. Oh I know that it'll be whatever I want, Tasha," he whispered, grinning as a new song started playing.

_I love to love you baby  
_ _I love to love you baby_

Clint climbed onto the bed once more, gently straddling Natasha's stomach. He cupped her breasts, teasingly rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. "Mmmm. Should I fuck your tits, Tasha? Do you want that?" he teased but he already knew her answer. They'd spoken about what they would do, in general. And they had both wanted Clint to fuck Natasha's breasts.

"Yes. Master, please. I want you to fuck my tits. Please. Clint," she begged, arching up to his touch.

_I'm feelin' sexy  
_ _I wanna hear you say my name boy  
_ _If you can reach me  
_ _You can feel my burning flame_

Clint nodded and reached for the lube which was sitting on the bedside locker. He squirted a generous amount of the vanilla scented lube in between Natasha's perfect breasts, smirking when she gasped at the cool sensation. Then he worked it into her skin, leaning down and kissing her with dirty intentions. Then he put some lube on his throbbing length, groaning at the cool feeling.

_I'm feelin kind of n-a-s-t-y  
_ _I just might take you home with me  
_ _Baby the minute i feel your energy  
_ _Your vibe's just taken over me  
_ _Start feelin so crazy babe  
_ _Lately, I feel the funk coming over me  
_ _I don't know what's gotten into me  
_ _The rhythm's got me feelin so crazy babe_

Natasha gazed up at her husband through hooded eyes, grinning at him when he placed his rock hard cock in between her breasts. He pushed her breasts together then, slowly rocking his hips and moaning at the sensation.

_Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _We're gonna turn this party out  
_ _I know you want my body  
_ _Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _I see you look me up and down  
_ _And i came to party_

Natasha tossed her head back and let out a loud moan. Clint bent his body so he could kiss her deeply. They both grinned into the kiss, the red-head gasping when her husband suddenly pinched her nipples, triggering white pleasure to course through her body.

Clint broke the kiss with a smug smirk. "That's five, Tasha," he whispered, grinning as Natasha panted.

_You're so sexy, tonight i am all yours boy  
_ _The way your body moves across the floor  
_ _You got me feelin n-a-s-t-y  
_ _I just might take you home with me_

Clint growled as Natasha breathed his name seductively. "Gonna come all over my tits, Master?" she purred huskily at her husband. "Gonna mark me with your come?"

He doubled over and groaned at her words, the movement of his hips speeding up. "Tasha," he groaned, grabbing the headboard as he felt the tightening of his balls against his body. "Fuck. Where do you want me to come?"

_Baby the minute i feel your energy  
_ _The vibe's just taken over me  
_ _Start feelin so crazy babe  
_ _Lately, I feel the funk coming over me  
_ _I don't know what's gotten into me  
_ _The rhythm's got me feelin so crazy babe_

"On my tits, Master," she replied, smiling when he groaned and brought his left hand down to his cock, jerking himself off. Within seconds, he spilled his come over her breasts, long, pearly white strips criss-crossing on her porcelain skin.

_Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _We're gonna turn this party out  
_ _I know you want my body  
_ _Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _I see you look me up and down  
_ _And i came to party_

Clint collapsed onto the bed beside Natasha, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Jesus fucking Christ, Tasha," he groaned against her skin.

The red-head grinned and twisted her head to kiss her husband's neck. "Mmmm. Master. But you've treated me to five mind-blowing orgasms. I still need to treat you to the same."

Clint shook his head before moving so he could kiss her deeply. "No you don't. Women are multi-orgasmic. Men not so much," he whispered against her lips. "And I like hearing you beg my name as you come."

"Kinky fucking caveman," she mumbled, grinning when he bit her bottom lip.

"Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. Only me," he whispered, tracing one hand down over his wife's come-covered tits and down to her dripping wet entrance, easily slipping two fingers inside her cunt. "You want that too, don't you, моя драгоценная жена?"

_I love to love you baby  
_ _I love to love you baby  
_ _I love to love you baby  
_ _I love to love you baby_

"Yes. O боже. Clint. Please," she practically begged, tossing her head back when her husband suddenly pinched her clit teasingly. "Please, take me."

"Give me a few minutes and I will," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her softly. "But first, I want you to come for me again."

Natasha moaned as Clint moved until he was settled in between her legs. He quickly unlocked her ankles to allow her plant her feet on the bed while he buried his face in her cunt. He locked his hands on her stomach, hooking her legs over his shoulders, holding her down as he worked her clit and entrance.

The twenty-two-year-old cried out in pure ecstasy as she started to come again, trying to arch away from Clint's hungry and enthusiastic onslaught on her pussy. But her husband's hold kept her from moving away from his hungry mouth.

Clint grinned into Natasha's sex, moaning at the taste of her on his tongue and at the gush of warm liquid that escaped her. He continued to lick her and suck on her clit, his unusually large tongue working her body over the edge of white ecstasy.

"Black! Black! Black! Clint!" Natasha screamed, her whole body convulsing as a result of her husband eating her out enthusiastically. "Black! Can't! Too much!"

Clint responded by pressing a wet kiss to her entrance before sliding up her body and kissing her softly. She continued to squirm beneath him, her orgasm still coursing through her body and mind.

_Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _We're gonna turn this party out  
_ _I know you want my body  
_ _Tonight i'll be your naughty girl  
_ _I'm callin all my girls  
_ _I see you look me up and down  
_ _And i came to party_

"Fuck, Clint," she breathed against his lips once she regained some coherency. "What the fuck brought that on?" she asked, gently pulling away from him.

"You just looked too good," he replied honestly, smiling as he reached up and undid the restraints on her wrists. "And I love eating you out," he added, grinning when she blushed at his words.

Natasha brought her hands up to Clint's neck, pulling her husband down so she could claim his mouth in a filthy kiss.

Clint wrapped Natasha's legs around his waist, returning her kiss hungrily. He growled against her lips when she reached between them and gripped his hard cock, stroking him firmly.

"Mmmm. Want you inside me, Clint," she purred in his ear when she broke their kiss. "Want you to fill me up, Master. Fuck my tight cunt! Want you to make me scream with that big cock of yours!"

Clint growled hungrily at her words. "I'm gonna make you scream yourself hoarse, Tasha," he warned, his voice warm despite his promise. He positioned himself at her entrance, slowly pushing inside her.

Natasha arched up into Clint's body as he entered her. She brought her legs higher up his back, kissing him hungrily as her body stretched to accommodate his above average length. She broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against his, both taking their time to enjoy this moment.

"I love you, Сексуальная Мама," he whispered, placing one hand beside her head, the other resting on her thigh.

"I love you too, Мой ястреб," she whispered, kissing him softly. "Make love to me, Clinton."

Clint nodded, rubbing his nose against Natasha's. He slowly pulled out of her until only the head of his cock was inside her. Then he slid back inside her.

Clint continued to kiss her deeply as he moved inside Natasha. She brought one hand up to his scalp, scraping lightly as he hit her G-spot with each thrust.

Natasha moaned as Clint set a steady pace of thrusting inside her. Her body arched up to her husband's, her arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

The red-head kissed Clint hungrily as her body clenched around him. Her skin was sensitive from her husband's earlier ministrations. And now she was close again.

"Clint. I'm close. So close," she moaned, trying to pull him closer.

He mouthed at her neck in response, groaning when her walls clenched around him. "You gonna cone for me again, Tasha?" he whispered huskily, fighting off his own orgasm in order to make his wife come again. "You gonna come on my cock?"

Natasha claimed his lips in a desperate kiss just as she came hard around his cock. Clint followed quickly, bpth shouting each others' names into the other's mouth.

Clint collapsed on top of Natasha, neither moving as they gently kissed their way down from their respective orgasms, listening to the words of the new song...

Aren't you somethin' to admire?  
'Cause your shine is somethin' like a mirror  
And I can't help but notice  
You reflect in this heart of mine  
If you ever feel alone and  
The glare makes me hard to find  
Just know that I'm always parallel on the other side

'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul  
I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go  
Just put your hand on the glass  
I'll be tryin' to pull you through  
You just gotta be strong

'Cause I don't wanna lose you now  
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me  
The vacancy that sat in my heart  
Is a space that now you hold  
Show me how to fight for now  
And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy  
Comin' back here to you once I figured it out  
You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me  
I couldn't get any bigger  
With anyone else beside of me  
And now it's clear as this promise  
That we're making two reflections into one  
'Cause it's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me

Aren't you somethin', an original  
'Cause it doesn't seem merely assembled  
And I can't help but stare, 'cause  
I see truth somewhere in your eyes  
I can't ever change without you  
You reflect me, I love that about you  
And if I could, I would look at us all the time

'Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul  
I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go  
Just put your hand on the glass  
I'll be tryin' to pull you through  
You just gotta be strong

'Cause I don't wanna lose you now  
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me  
The vacancy that sat in my heart  
Is a space that now you hold  
Show me how to fight for now  
And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy  
Comin' back into you once I figured it out  
You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me  
I couldn't get any bigger  
With anyone else beside of me  
And now it's clear as this promise  
That we're making two reflections into one  
'Cause it's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me

Yesterday is history  
Tomorrow's a mystery  
I can see you lookin' back at me  
Keep your eyes on me  
Baby, keep your eyes on me

'Cause I don't wanna lose you now  
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me  
The vacancy that sat in my heart  
Is a space that now you hold  
Show me how to fight for now (please show me, baby)  
I'll tell you, baby, it was easy  
Comin' back into you once I figured it out  
You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me  
I couldn't get any bigger  
With anyone else beside of me  
And now it's clear as this promise  
That we're making two reflections into one  
'Cause it's like you're my mirror  
My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me

You are, you are the love of my life  _[x10]_

Now you're the inspiration of this precious song  
And I just wanna see your face light up since you put me on  
So now I say goodbye to the old me, it's already gone  
And I can't wait wait wait wait wait to get you home  
Just to let you know, you are

You are, you are the love of my life  _[x8]_

Girl you're my reflection, all I see is you  
My reflection, in everything I do  
You're my reflection and all I see is you  
My reflection, in everything I do

You are, you are the love of my life  _[x16]_

* * *

Clint smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to Natasha's temple lovingly while she slept peacefully in their bed. He gently climbed out of bed, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. He quietly left their bedroom and made his way down to the kitchen, planning on making his wife breakfast in bed.

Only for his plans to be ruined by finding Nick Fury sitting at the kitchen counter.

"Shouldn't you be with your pregnant wife?" Clint greeted, making his way over to the coffee machine. It was way too early for him to be dealing with the ever-secretive S.H.I.E.L.D. Director.

"She's on her way over. It's 11.48," Nick replied, watching his best sniper carefully. "Barton, there's a situation that we need you to take care of," the older man stated.

"Nat and I still have a month left, Sir. Can't it wait until then?"

"Barton... it's Petrovitch..."

Clint turned to look at the Director, surprise written clearly over his face. "Where?"

"London. I've scouting squads tracking him as we speak."

Clint was about to respond when he was interrupted by his wife.

"What's going on?" Natasha asked, her voice husky from sleep, not bothering to beat around the bush as she looked at Nick and Clint. "You're not going on a mission, are you, Clint?"

"Natasha, we've managed to finally track down Petrovitch. Barton's the best agent we've got to deal with that bastard."

Natasha glanced at Clint, her husband watching her carefully. He hadn't said a word yet. She was about to call him up on it but was interrupted by Maria entering the kitchen with Artyom in her arms and Tyler running towards Nick.

"Daddy!" Tyler shouted, grinning and laughing in delight as Nick caught him im a hug. "I missed you, Daddy."

"I missed you too, Ty," Nick whispered to his son, hugging him tightly.

Maria smiled at her two favourite men and gently let Natasha take her own son into her arms. Then the brunette made her way over to her own husband and step-son, kissing Nick softly in greeting.

Clint made his way over to his own family, wrapping his arms around Natasha's waist, holding her close to him. He smiled softly as Artyom sighed in content at his mother's touch. The archer was well acquainted with the feeling.

They would talk about the mission later. But right now, all Clint wanted was to spend time with his wife and son...

* * *

Natasha sighed as she rolled over, her hand stretching out to find her husband only to find empty warm sheets. Frowning, she sat up in her bed, using her training to try to hear where her husband could be. She heard the water running in their own bathroom, the pattern suggesting that Clint was in the shower. Slowly, she climbed out of the bed, making her way into the en-suite. She found her husband standing in the shower, facing the wall while the water cascaded down his body.

The twenty-two-year-old slowly stepped into the shower behind her husband, gently wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her forehead in between his broad shoulder blades. Her hands interlaced on his chest, feeling the steady heartbeat under her palms.

Clint brought one hand up to cover his wife's, the other going behind him, pulling her closer. "Did I wake you?" he asked, slowly moving so he was facing her. "Hi," he greeted, leaning down and pecking her lips lovingly.

"Hi," she whispered, rubbing the tip of her nose along her husband's. "I woke up after realising that you weren't there beside me," she answered, her hands stroking the length of his spine. "You okay?"

Clint nodded, smiling at her softly. "I'm okay. I wanted to have a shower before I leave in the morning," he whispered, bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek lovingly. "You going to be okay on your own?"

"I won't be alone. I've Artyom and Lucky to keep me company," she replied, closing her eyes as the water cascaded down their bodies. "Just... come back to us."

Clint didn't respond verbally. Instead, he cupped her ass and lifted her up, letting her wrap her thighs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Their lips met in a desperate kiss, teeth, tongues and lips clashing with force.

Natasha groaned into the kiss as Clint moved until she was against the wall, her warm skin against the cool tiles. She tightened her legs around her husband's waist, one hand moving to his hair, pulling hard. Her other hand reached between them, gripping his cock and positioning its head at her entrance.

Slowly, he pushed inside her tight warmth, making them break apart and moan loudly at the sensation. Clint rested his forehead against Natasha's, his eyes locked on hers as he bottomed out inside her.

Natasha sighed and closed her eyes in pleasure, holding her husband close as they simply stood there under the warm water, enjoying the feeling of each other.

Clint gently kissed Natasha as he slowly pulled out of her before thrusting back inside. They both cried out in pleased ecstasy as he set a steady pace.

The red-head broke the kiss, tilting her head back as she felt her oncoming orgasm. Her Hawk continued to thrust inside her, mouthing at her pulse point, one large hand cupping one of her full breasts - bigger now as a result of her pregnancy than beforehand. He rubbed a callused thumb over her hardened nipple, earning a pleased cry from his wife as she came suddenly around him.

Natasha gasped and panted as Clint continue to thrust inside her through her climax. She moved her hands up to his shoulders, gripping them hard as she captured her husband's lips once more.

Clint hooked his strong arms under Natasha's knees, sending him deeper inside her. She hooked her ankles on his back, breaking the kiss and leaning her forehead against his as he kept up his pace.

Natasha closed her eyes in pleasure as Clint thrust inside her, his pace hard but pleasing. She needed this pace just as much as he did. Needed to have him one more time before he had to go on his mission.

"Tasha... come for me," he ordered softly, his voice husky with emotions. "Please. Need you to come for me."

"Come with me," she replied, cupping his face and kissing him hungrily. "Come on, мой ястреб," she purred, "Fill me up as I come for you."

Clint growled as he did just that. He halted as he buried himself deep inside his wife, roughly shouting her name as he came inside her.

Natasha came hard at the sensation of her husband filling her up once more. She continued to kiss Clint softly through their climaxes, her legs locked firmly around her husband's body, holding him as close as possible to her.

Clint gently broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. They let the cooling water bare down on them, too content in each others' arms to part or move.

Natasha brought one hand down to trace random patterns on Clint's chest. She was content to stay there forever. But Lucky suddenly barked at the closed bathroom door, signalling that their son was awake.

Clint gently pulled out of Natasha and turned off the shower. They both quickly got out of the shower and toweled themselves dry before Clint pulled on a clean pair of boxers and pyjama bottoms and went to tend to Artyom while Natasha finished drying up and changing.

Clint smiled down at his son soothingly, Artyom's face red and tears streaming down his face. The archer gently took his almost two-month-old son in his arms, the baby almost immediately quietening when he was in his father's arms. Artyom moved towards Clint's chest, mouth searching in the dark, obviously showing that he was hungry. "Let's get you to Mama, Little Hawk," Clint whispered softly, carrying Artyom out of the nursery and into the master bedroom where Natasha was finished getting ready for bed. "Our son is hungry," he informed her with a soft smile.

Natasha returned his smile, taking her son in her arms and adjusting her nightshirt so Artyom could nurse. Clint climbed into the bed beside her, signalling to Lucky to climb onto the bed too. The archer wrapped his strong arms around his wife's waist, holding her close as possible to his body.

The archer smiled as he watched his son nurse, the two-month-old blinking up at his parents. Natasha smiled, stroking her son's face as he suckled, her index finger moving gently on Artyom's soft skin.

Clint kissed Natasha softly when she raised her head to smile at him. He grinned at her when he pulled away slowly and smiled down at their son. Artyom blinked and grinned up at his parents while he nursed, nuzzling his nose against Natasha's breast as he suckled.

Eventually, Artyom pulled away from his mother's breast, showing his parents that he was full for the time being.

Natasha smiled and gently handed her son to his father, smiling as Clint looked at Artyom, wonder and love shining from his eyes. She adjusted her nightshirt back into place and watched as Clint gently bounced Artyom, being mindful of their son's neck.

She moved so she was lying on her back, smiling softly when Lucky nuzzled her right foot in sleepy acknowledgement. "Clint, stop it. You'll make him sick," she warned halfheartedly, twisting her head to look at her husband.

"I'm not going to make him sick, Tasha. He loves it, don't you, bud?" Clint whispered softly, grinning as their son giggled in his arms. "He's perfect, Tasha," he added, placing Artyom down on the bed between them, grinning at the baby as he sucked on his small fist and giggled up at his parents.

"He's his father's son. Look at his ears," Natasha teased, twisting onto her side to gently run her left hand over Artyom's stomach.

"You look like me, huh, bud? Real sexy?" Clint whispered, leaning down and kissing Artyom's forehead lovingly.

"Who said that you were sexy?" Natasha teased, smirking at her husband when he raised a surprised eyebrow at her.

"Me," he replied, smiling when Natasha brought her hand up to place it on Clint's chest lovingly. "I love you, Сексуальная Мама," he whispered as she moved her hand to trace his lips.

"And I love you too, Мой ястреб," she whispered softly, grinning as she pressed her lips to Artyom's forehead lovingly. "And our Little Hawk."

* * *

Clint sighed as he sat in the lonely cold hotel room. He was waiting for his scout team to get a visual on Petrovitch before he and Barney headed in for the kill. His said brother was already asleep on the other bed, his loud snoring providing no comfort for the twenty-eight-year-old.

Taking out his phone, Clint unlocked his screen. A picture of Natasha holding Artyom only hours after their son was born was the first thing that Clint saw. The archer smiled before deciding to punch in the ever familiar number. And the recipient answered after two short rings.

"Clint? What's wrong?" Came his wife's naturally husky voice, worry evident in her tone.

"Nothing. I just needed to hear you say that you love me," Clint replied, smiling when he heard his wife let out a sigh of relief.

"You know that I love you, Clint," Natasha replied, and Clint could hear the smile in her voice. "I really miss you, Darling. And so does our son. And Lucky."

Clint chuckled at her words. "I miss you too, Tasha. All of you. Not even Barney's snoring is amusing. Can't wait until I'm home and get to hold you again." He grinned at Artyom's sudden giggle over the phone, loud enough for Clint to hear. "He sounds happy," he commented, making Natasha laigh lightly.

"I have you on loud speaker. He's fascinated that he can hear you despite not being in the same room."

That made the archer laugh. "Curious little fella, isn't he?"

"Definitely his father's son. He also loves my tits. So yeah, you can't deny him as your son," she teased. Clint missed watching her smile.

"I'd never deny him anyways. He's proof of trying to make our ledgers clean. And that the woman behind the many layers of the  _Black Widow_ does know love isn't just for children."

"We're all someone's child, Clint. People really need to think outside the box about that statement."

Clint chuckled. "Plus, your tits are perfect," he added cheekily, grinning when Natasha snorted in response. "Can't blame our son for that."

"You love that they're bigger now," she stated. "You love it when you have them in your hands and they spill over your fingers."

"Nat... stop. That's just teasing me," he whispered, his voice husky with desire at the memories her words brought up.

"Mmmm. I know. I particularly liked - no loved - it when you fucked my tits on Tuesday while Maria babysat."

Clint stood up to loosen the pressure in his pants. He knew Natasha knew the effect her words were having on him. "When I get home, I'll do it again. And coat you all over again," he whispered as he snuck into the bathroom. "And you'll be begging for it."

"Is my Love all riled up?" she teased as she heard Clint turn on the shower of his hotel room. "I'd be willing to help you out if I was there. But I'm not. So a cold shower is in order."

"Tasha..." he began as he stripped. "The minute I get home, I'm spending it with you and Artyom. And that night, I'm going to spend the night making love to you in our bed." The archer frowned when he heard his wife let out a muffled sob at his words. "Tash?"

"Just come home to us, Clint. I can't stand the thought of Ivan taking you away from Artyom and me," she whispered, her voice low and soft.

"I'll always come back to you, Tasha," he replied honestly, closing his eyes as Natasha sang softly to Artyom. "Give our son a huge hug and kiss from his daddy."

"Of course. We love you, Clint."

"I love both of you too, Tasha. I'll be home soon."

He called her on the road  
From a lonely cold hotel room  
Just to hear her say I love you one more time  
But when he heard the sound  
Of the kids laughing in the background  
He had to wipe away a tear from his eye  
A little voice came on the phone  
Said daddy when you coming home  
He said the first thing that came to his mind

I'm already there  
Take a look around  
I'm the sunshine in your hair  
I'm the shadow on the ground  
I'm the whisper in the wind  
I'm your imaginary friend  
And I know I'm in your prayers  
Oh I'm already there

She got back on the phone  
Said I really miss you darling  
Don't worry about the kids they'll be alright  
Wish I was in your arms  
Lying right there beside you  
But I know that Ill be in your dreams tonight  
And Ill gently kiss your lips  
Touch you with my fingertips  
So turn out the light and close your eyes

I'm already there  
Don't make a sound  
I'm the beat in your heart  
I'm the moonlight shining down  
I'm the whisper in the wind  
And Ill be there until the end  
Can you feel the love that we share  
Oh I'm already there

We may be a thousand miles apart  
But Ill be with you wherever you are

I'm already there  
Take a look around  
I'm the sunshine in your hair  
I'm the shadow on the ground  
I'm the whisper in the wind  
And Ill be there until the end  
Can you feel the love that we share  
Oh I'm already there  
Oh I'm already  
There


	32. Round Three – BlackHawk vs the Red Room (Part 2)

_Hawkeye_ and  _Trickshot_ took their positions outside the London skyscraper where Petrovitch was hiding. The building was a disguise for a new Red Room building Petrovitch was planning to create in order to expand his power and control. Their scouts had tracked the tyrant back to the building before notifying the brothers were he was. They quickly but carefully geared up and met their scouts on an opposite skyscraper, waiting for more information about the Russian monster.

They had been waiting two weeks for this moment. Clint had spent two weeks away from his wife and son and he missed them. But he knew that after today, he'd be going home to them. Without Natasha having to look over her shoulder for her Red Room trainers.

"We have movement," Barney informed his brother, signalling towards their lookout on the roof.

"Let's get this bastard," Clint replied, grabbing his bow and following his brother as they shot a line to the other building. Then they took the line over...

* * *

Natasha frowned at the file in front of her before writing down her opinion on the possible 0-8-4. She had been placed on temporary administration duty until she and Clint decided what they wanted to do and who they wanted to know. Ashley and Barney would babysit Artyom if they decided that they still wanted to work in the field.

So far, the only ones who knew of Clint and Natasha's marriage was Phil, Nick, Maria, Melinda, Eva, Ashley, Barney, Tyler, Adrianna, and Bobbi. Only Bobbi didn't know about Artyom. And that's all Clint and Natasha wanted to know about their life outside of work. Natasha knew she wouldn't trust anyone else as far as her son and husband were concerned.

Artyom was currently sleeping in his bassinet beside Natasha's desk. The three-month-old had his favourite teddy cuddled against him, a small hawk which was a present from his Auntie Ashley and Uncle Barney. Natasha smiled at her son, taking in his unruly hair. The red-head had a good feeling that her son would take after his father's appearance. But his personality could be a mixture of both his parents.

She stood up from her desk and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her son's forehead. She walked over to the window and looked out onto the clear August day, the sun beaming down on the grass.

She leaned against the window, glancing at the picture frame Clint had insisted on having in the library. It was a picture of the two of them on their first mission as Strike Team DELTA. They been undercover as a newly married couple in an Argentine resort. To maintain cover, they had posed as another  _tourist_ took a picture for them on Clint's camera. Natasha was sitting on Clint's lap, with the archer's arms wrapped comfortably around her waist. Her own arms rested on top of her partner's, their fingers interlaced. She'd been wearing a lilac sundress with white shoes while Clint had chosen a white tank top, tan cargo shorts and vans. They looked like they were truly on their honeymoon and in love. 'And look at us now,' she thought with a soft smile.

"You're thinking about Clint again," Ashley stated as she entered the library, grinning when Natasha turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "Anytime you think of Clint, or when you two are together, you get the same small smile. Only for Clint and Artyom though. And Lucky."

Natasha let out a soft snort and shook her head. She walked back over to her desk as Ashley walked in. "You do the same with Barney," the red-head commented with a cheeky smirk.

Ashley blushed and nodded, smiling as Artyom stretched in his sleep. Natasha smirked as she noticed the look in Ashley's eyes.

"So both you and Maria are pregnant. This is going to be a fun year," Natasha commented, making Ashley glance up at the red-head, shock clearly written over her face.

"How did you know?!" Ashley asked, keeping her voice pitched low as not to wake up Artyom. "Barney and I told no one."

Natasha smirked and replied, "I'm a master interrogator. I have to be able to read people's body language. Your behaviour lately is a dead giveaway. Just like Maria's."

Ashley could only glare at the red-head. "Barney's over the moon. But we weren't expecting for me to get pregnant so soon. And... I'm scared," she confessed, biting her bottom lip.

Natasha smiled softly and nodded. "That's normal," she stated, smiling as she watched Artyom slowly blink himself awake. She checked her watched and noticed her son had been asleep for almsot three hours. He had gone from waking up every four hours during the night to waking once for a feeding. And Natasha didn't mind the change one bit. She gently ran her hand soothingly over Artyom's head, grinning as he yawned and blinked up at her. "But, personally, it's worth it. After months of questioning yourself."

Ashley returned Natasha's soft smile and looked down at her nephew as he pulled his favourite teddy bear into his mouth. "Knowing my luck, my son or daughter will be as troublesome as his or her father and uncle," she replied with a knowing grin towards Natasha.

The red-head chuckled and nodded. "We'll train them into line, don't you worry," she replied with a grin...

* * *

Later that night, Natasha lay in bed with Artyom in the middle of the bed, pillows nestled around him. Not enough to be a hindrance but enough to stop him from rolling too far. He'd be delighted when he started rolling on the floor when Natasha had him lying down in his play mat. Now he was making a habit of doing it anytime he could. Currently he was fast asleep, his stuffed hawk toy held close to him while Natasha softly ran her hand over his soft hair. He had shown signs of red hair through the brown, although the brown still dominated the red.

Natasha smiled as Lucky gently climbed up onto the foot of the bed, resting his head on his crossed paws. He watched Natasha and Artyom carefully with his one eye, his tail waggling happily when Natasha smiled at him.

Looking at Artyom, Natasha couldn't help but think back to when she was training under Clint and Melinda...

* * *

_Natasha dodged Agent May as the older woman used a flurry of punches and kicks, trying to catch the red-head off guard. Only May and Clint would train with her. Not that Natasha was complaining. May didn't force her to talk. Didn't force conversation. They often simply talked about different fighting styles and how to improve._

_Clint, however, made it his duty to get Natasha to talk about something. No matter how trivial it was. He also tried to get her to smile. Not that it happened at base. But he did manage to get her to smile in the privacy of his apartment._

_Currently, the archer was on a mission in Calcutta. A drug lord was trying to dip his hands into weapons development. Clint had been sent to take him out. Not that Natasha was supposed to know all that detail. While Clint was gone, Natasha had been placed under May's supervision although the red-head still slept in Clint's apartment. The red-head had fought tooth and nail to make sure she wasn't moved: she wasn't like a child whose parents had divorced and were sharing custody. She could take care of herself, thank you very much. And anyways, she still had the bracelet which kept track of her location._

_"Barton requested that I should bring you out for lunch. So that you're not subjected to more bullshit from other agents in the canteen," May informed her when they took a water break._

_Natasha raised an eyebrow at her stand-in S.O. "I'm more than capable of dealing with all of the agents who believe the rumours about why Agent Barton made a different call," she replied calmly despite the various emotions going on in her head. She didn't need a goddamn babysitter while Clint was gone._

_"He said you say that. And so he told me to tell you that he doesn't want you to suffer for his past mistakes and his correct decision to not follow through with his kill orders. And I agree with him," May replied, crossing her arms and levelling the red-head with a motherly gaze. "I'm not taking_ no _for an answer," she added when Natasha opened her mouth to protest._

_Natasha bit the inside of her lip before nodding. There was no point trying to argue with May. She was like Coulson that way; once she had her mind made up, you couldn't change it easily._

_May smirked. Barton had requested that she should bring Romanoff away from the incorrect rumours about the red-head's recruitment. But the older woman also wanted to see what Romanoff was like outside the base. She didn't think the Russian was comfortable at the base, particularly with Barton's exes spreading shitty rumours about the two. "Good. How do you feel about an Italian restaurant?"_

* * *

_"So... you think Barton made the right call?" Natasha asked May in Mandarin Chinese when the waiter placed their food in front of him. The red-head had ordered fettuccine alla carbonara while May had ordered a risotto. Natasha had a feeling that the various dishes Clint had been teaching her how to cook were now influencing what she ate for her main meals. Although that didn't stop her sweet tooth._

_"I think Barton is smarter than he lets most people at work know," May started in the same tongue, a small grin showing up. "Barton sees better from a distance. He didn't see what the rest of us saw. He was able to compartmentalise and saw the real target. And it wasn't you. Unfortunately, you were simply the weapon the Red Room was using to get their job done. You were a child whose childhood was stolen, and you weren't given the chance to develop your own ideas. You were brainwashed to trust and believe the Red Room's. Therefore, yes, I do think Barton made the correct call."_

_Natasha was surprised by May's honesty but didn't let it show. She simply nodded and dug into her lunch, not realising how hungry she was until she begun to eat. Then a question popped into her head. "Why do Clint's exes hate me so much?"_

_May chuckled darkly. "Because he never trusted them. And he never let them sleep at his apartment. However, he trusts you. And doesn't mind you sharing his living space. He's more comfortable with you than he ever was with any of them. They're simply jealous. So they're degrading you by the rumours," May replied, remembering how angry the archer was when he stormed into Phil's apartment after hearing some of the more degrading rumours. "He's also protective of you. He knows that you don't need it but he thinks you deserve it after what you went through."_

_Natasha frowned slightly before glancing at May. "His Haphephobia probably didn't help him with his relationships," she replied, chewing on the inside of her lip. She had done some research after Clint had told her about his abusive father. His condition had various symptoms; discomfort and perspiration; nausea; heart palpitations; dry mouth; feeling dizzy; panic; numbness; heightened senses; breathlessness; feeling trapped; muscle tension and rigidity; trembling, hyperventilating, feeling out of control, feeling of impending doom or disaster, and hives. The red-head often wondered how he managed to work when he was undercover._

_May nodded solemnly. "They didn't understand why he hates being touched. He tolerates Dr. Santos touching him. But that's because she only touches him in time of medical emergencies. Otherwise, she allows him to treat himself with her supervision. And he doesn't mind young children touching him as long as they don't try to hit him. His exes, well, all but two, thought that he would grow to like their touch. He never did. The other two understood that he couldn't just learn to like their touch overnight. And they accepted it."_

" _Agent Morse was one of them?" Natasha asked, recalling the name of Clint's ex who had cheated on him._

_May nodded. "That's what made her cheating on him so surreal. She accepted Clint's flaws. She didn't push him. Didn't mind him not allowing her into his apartment that much. It came as a shock when I heard she cheated on him. And she's one of the two that hasn't spread any rumours about you. The looks she gives you are more suspicious than jealous."_

_Natasha nodded and kept eating before asking, "Who else doesn't hate my guts?"_

_May chuckled. "Clint's ex, Jessica Drew. Maria Hill. Phil. Fury. Dr. Santos. And myself," she replied, taking a drink of water as Natasha processed her words._

" _Thank you. For trusting Barton and not hating me," Natasha replied, smiling slightly at her stand-in S.O._

" _Barton is usually right when he makes calls that required someone to watch from a distance. And he always stands by his call. And from what I've seen so far, his sight is far better than the combination of The Council's and their informants."_

_Natasha bit her lip once more before asking, "Would you show me those Tai-Chi moves that seem to keep you so relaxed all the time?"_

_Melinda grinned properly this time. "You really have been spending too much time around Barton and Phil's bickering to ask me to teach you Tai-Chi," she commented knowingly._

_Natasha smirked and shrugged her shoulders. "Clint, on his own, I can deal with. But if I have to listen to him and Coulson bickering during training once more, I'm going to taser one of them. Then tie them up to the top of base in their underwear."_

" _What 80's shows has Barton been showing you?"_

* * *

Natasha bit her bottom lip and leaned down to press her lips to Artyom's forehead. From day one, Clint trusted her with more than he had trusted any of his exes. And then he trusted her enough to let himself fall in love with her. And have a family with her. Despite knowing every dark secret the Red Room had allowed her to remember.

Looking at her son, Natasha knew that she had been blessed that it was Clint who had been sent to kill her in 2004. Otherwise she would not be here. With their son. With a life she thought had been stolen from her a long time ago. Biting her bottom lip, Natasha lay down beside her son, closing her eyes. One thought crossed her mind as she slowly fell asleep; ' _Please come home to us, Clint…_ '

* * *

 _Hawkeye_  and  _Trickshot_  quickly took down any opposition they met as they made their way down the skyscraper. Their team had managed to gain access to the tower's computer mainframe and its blueprints.

" _ **Agent Barton, the target has a secret room to hide on floor 12. It's heavily guarded. He was expecting an attack**_ ," one of their agents informed him over the comms. Clint was sure it was Agent Hartley.

"Copy that.  _Trickshot_  and I will figure out another way to attack,"  _Hawkeye_  replied, turning to his brother as he finished clearing a new floor. "What do you suggest?"

Barney thought for a moment before replying, "Hit them from their least expected attack point. Have agents draw out his heavy guards. Then attack him in his own bunker," he suggested, watching Clint's smirk appear at his suggestion.

"I like that plan,"  _Hawkeye_  stated as he found where Petrovitch was hiding on the map. "This bastard is a dead man," he added as he signalled to his brother to follow him. "Because he pissed off the wrong fucking archer."

* * *

" _Trick_ , now would be a good time to duck!"  _Hawkeye_  shouted as he took cover from the bullets that were being shot at the two men.

"Who the fuck is covering Petrovitch?"  _Trickshot_  shouted over the raining bullets as he took cover. "And Natasha is going to murder you when she sees all those cuts on your arm," he added, pointing at said injury.

Clint looked down at the injuries, mentally noting how bad they were. "Nah... They're nothing more than grazes," he replied, glancing back at the Red Room agents trying to cover Petrovitch. "You still have any shattering arrows?" the younger of the two asked, smirking at his brother knowingly.

"And this is why you're my brother," Barney replied, grinning as he took out a new arrow.

Clint only smirked as he turned to look at the agents before turning and signalling to his brother where to shoot. Barney took aim and released the arrow. Two short screams followed as the ceiling collapsed onto the two agents while Clint and Barney kept themselves out of range.

Once they heard nothing more, the two brothers stood up from cover and climbed over the debris.  _Hawkeye_  checked the map again, noting Petrovitch's hidden room's exact location. He led his brother silently to the room.

"Here we go,  _Trickshot_ ,"  _Hawkeye_  signalled, pointing towards the door in front of them.  _Trickshot_  nodded and readied himself as his brother notched two arrows. Then Barney kicked in the door.

 _Hawkeye_  entered the room first, quickly taking out two guards while  _Trickshot_  took out the three remaining ones. Suddenly, a whimper came from the far side of the room, making  _Hawkeye_  notch an arrow and aim it at the source of the sound. He stopped himself from releasing the arrow as he noticed who had made the sound.

Petrovitch was standing with a young boy, a pistol aimed at the kid's head. "Good afternoon,  _Hawkeye_ ," the Red Room leader sneered in Russian, glaring at the archer. "How is my Natalia?" he asked mockingly.

"Natasha was never yours in the first place,"  _Hawkeye_  replied, watching the whimpering boy in front of his target. They boy mustn't have been older than four or five. "What do you want with the boy? He's what, four? Five?"

"He's actually only three. It seems that you have a thing for not hurting Romanovs. The perfect distraction to kill the archer who took my greatest accomplishment," Petrovitch replied, grinning blood thirstily at the archer. "Collateral damage means nothing to me."

"Really? I never noticed. Those who are already in Hell probably won't notice it either when you join them,"  _Hawkeye_  replied before locking eyes with the young boy. He winked at the kid before releasing the arrow, hitting Petrovitch in between the eyes before he could even react.

Clint quickly ran over to the startled kid, setting his bow down and holding his hands up as he came closer to the kid. "Hey. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay?" Clint asked as he stopped in front of the child.

The blonde haired boy nodded as he watched the archer carefully, reminding Clint of Natasha when he brought her back to his hotel room after making a different call. "You are  _Hawkeye_ ," the little boy stated in unbroken English, surprising Clint slightly.

"Yes I am. My name is Clint Barton. What's yours?" Clint asked, watching the boy carefully.

"Erik," the little boy replied, relaxing as he realised that Clint wasn't going to hurt him. "You know Natalia?" Erok asked, making Clint raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, I do. But she prefers to be called Natasha. She's my partner. And my wife," Clint replied, watching the boy carefully as he came closer to her. "Do you know her?"

"Not personally. But Mama knew her," Erik confessed, standing directly in front of Clint.

"Who was your Mama, Erik?" Clint asked as he knelt down. He was making sure he was at eye level with the young boy, as to show him he wouldn't hurt him.

"My Mama was Anya Romanova," Erik replied, biting his bottom lip nervously while Clint froze at the name the boy gave him. Anya was Natasha's little sister. "Commissar Ivan hurt her. And he hurt me after he hurt Mama too. And then mama's skin went very cold. And she didn't wake up. She never woke up," the boy whimpered, tears falling from his green eyes.

Clint pulled the boy into a protective hug. "It's okay, Erik. Ivan won't hurt you anymore. I've made sure of that," Clint whispered as he stood up with the boy in his arms. He picked up his bow before turning around to Barney who was speaking to the team through the comm. links.

"Right. Copy that," Barney spoke to the team before turning to Clint. "The minute we get out of here, they've got clean-up ready to get in," the older of the two explained, watching the little boy in Clint's arms as the archer picked up his bow. "Is the kid okay?"

Clint looked at Erik who had his arms wrapped around Clint's neck, his face buried in the twenty-eight-year-old's neck. "Not yet. But Natasha and I will be there for him until he is. And after that," the archer stated, looking back at his brother.

Barney nodded in reply before Coulson came on line. " _ **Bartons, clear the area. We're sending in a clean-up crew. I'll meet you two outside with a black SUV to bring you back to your hotel. And your flight out is at 20.45**_ ," he ordered.

"Copy that, Agent Coulson. We're on our way," Clint responded, keeping Erik close to his body. He cast one more look at Petrovitch's lifeless body, one thought running throigh his mimd: ' _The Red Room would never hurt the people he loves again.'_

Turning, Clint followed Barney out of the building, meeting the clean-up team and Coulson outside. Coulson stopped as he noticed Clint was holding a young boy in his arms. "What have I told you about strays?" the suit deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at his agent.

"Stop bringing Russians home," Clint replied, climbing into the back of the SUV. He gently untangled Erik's arms from his neck and set the boy down in the middle seat, buckling him in carefully.

Coulson turned to Barney with a questioning gaze. "He's related to Natasha," he explained simply.

Coulson looked shocked before nodding. The suit climbed into the driver's seat while Barney got into the passenger's. Coulson pulled out of the parking lot just as the clean-up crew started their part of the mission.

Clint kept one arm gently around Erik as the three-year-old cuddled into him. Neither paid attention to the dirt Clint was covered in. All Erik knew was that he wasn't going to be hurt again...


	33. Home

_All Erik knew was that he wasn't going to be hurt again..._

Clint smiled softly at Erik while Eva checked over him. She was careful not to frighten the three-year-old, handing him a lollypop when he agreed to let her exam him on the condition that he could sit in Clint's lap. Like his aunt when she was brought in, Erik found it easier that Clint was in the room with him rather than being left alone with Eva.

Erik was very quiet but co-operative with Eva throughout the exam, answering any question he could. By the end, he was curled into Clint's chest, his eyes sliding closed. He played with Clint's wedding ring while Eva finished her report. When she lifted her head to look at the two, Erik was fast asleep in Clint's arms. She couldn't help but smile.

Clint smiled down at Erik's sleeping form then looked up at Eva. "How is he?"

"Other than the obvious mental scarring he suffered, physically he's more advanced for his age. He has more intellect for his age than expected. Obviously from Red Room training. And he's malnourished too. But otherwise, he's okay," she replied, watching Clint carefully. "But he will need you and Nat more than anything if he's to recover from whatever the Red Room did to him."

Clint nodded at Eva's words. "Family isn't always blood. It's the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what," he quoted, glancing down at Erik. "He's part of my family now," he added…

* * *

Natasha lay in her and Clint's bed that night after feeding Artyom. Now her son lay in the middle of the bed, his position similar to his father when Natasha wasn't in Clint's arms; one arm thrown over his head while the other rested on his stomach. The red-head smiled at the sight. She was about to rest her head on her own pillow to sleep but she head a door opening downstairs. She automatically stood up and went to grab one of her guns but then she noticed Lucky's reaction. He was up at the door, his tail waggling happily, turning to look at her, his teeth showing and tongue hanging out.

"Clint," Natasha replied as she recognised the dog's reaction; her husband was home. She gently picked up Artyom and balanced him against her chest before making her way downstairs. As she entered the kitchen, she smiled at the familiar build of her husband's body but then she noticed that he was holding something – or rather someone – in his arms. Slowly, she brought one hand down to rap her knuckles against the door, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the lamp on the kitchen counter.

Clint immediately turned around when he heard Natasha, the archer's face breaking into a bright smile at the sight of his wife and their son. He slowly approached her, smiling brightly at the red-head as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "Good evening, Mrs. Barton," he whispered, not wanting to wake either Artyom or Erik.

"Mr. Barton," she returned, cocking her head as her eyes trailed down to Erik's sleeping form in her husband's arms. "And?"

"Erik Luka Romanov," Clint replied as he took Natasha's free hand in his and guided her over to the kitchen counter. "He's your sister's son. Anya's son," he added, making Natasha pause as her eyes took in Erik's appearance.

The red-head brought a hand to Erik's forehead and brushed a stray lock of the boy's spiky hair out of his face. "Where is she now?" Natasha asked as Erik slowly turned his head to look at her with big blinking green eyes, reminding her so much of her little sister. At least, what she could remember about Anya.

Clint shook his head at his wife, not speaking the words he knew would make everything worse. Natasha nodded at her archer, knowing exactly why he didn't speak the words and watched her nephew carefully. "Hey, Erik," she whispered in greeting, watching the boy observe her carefully.

"Natalia," the little boy whispered as he recognised Natasha from the pictures his mother had shown him before she had been taken away from him and his life. "Natasha," he corrected himself as he remembered what Clint had told him back at the facility. "Hi," he whispered, noticing Artyom sleeping against Natasha's chest. "And that's?" he asked, looking between Clint and Natasha nervously.

"This is our son, Artyom," Natasha replied, bringing one hand up to brush the stray locks out of Erik's face. "How old are you, Erik?"

"I'm three-years-old. I was born on Christmas Day in 2003," he replied, his eyes never leaving Artyom's sleeping form. "He's very small," he eventually commented, glancing up at Natasha and Clint with wide eyes.

Clint and Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at Erik's words. "That's because he's only three-months old, Erik," Clint explained, moving Erik so he could take the three-year-old's hand and place it gently on Artyom's left hand. "He's going to be small for a little while. But then he will be big enough for you to play with," he added, his eyes looking up to catch Natasha's, her eyes were bright with emotion.

Natasha couldn't help the smile on her face as she watched her only nephew watch her own son with awe. She looked up at her husband, finding him watching her with a loving expression, which she willingly returned. She let her eyes trail back to her son and Erik, the three-year-old cocking his head to the side in concentration as Artyom moved slightly in his sleep.

When Erik's body began to sink back into Clint's touch, the twenty-eight-year-old gently lifted him up. "Time for bed, buddy," he told him, pressing his lips to Erik's head gently. Erik wrapped his small arms around Clint's neck and nodded sleepily. Clint bent down and let Natasha press her lips to Erik's forehead as well. She stood up with Artyom and followed Clint up the stairs, both taking care not to jostle either boy in the process.

Clint entered one of the spare bedrooms, walking over to the bed where Tyler had stayed on a few occasions. Gently, Clint set Erik down on the bed, thankful that he had had the foresight to get Erik pyjamas before they arrived at the house. He tucked Erik under the blanket, smiling when the three-year-old sighed happily in content. "Good night, buddy," Clint whispered softly, pressing his lips once more to Erik's forehead. He quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar before making his way to Artyom's nursery. He smiled as he watched Natasha kiss their baby boy's forehead before pulling back and gently tucking him in, placing his favourite stuffed Hawk soft toy in his outreached arm. Clint waited until both Natasha's hands rested on the cot before walking up behind her, placing his hands on her waist.

"Hi," he whispered softly in her ear, pulling her back against his chest. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent, closing his eyes at her smell. He had missed it, missed her, missed Artyom, missed simply being with his family.

Natasha smiled and slowly turned in Clint's arms, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, basking in his presence once more.

Slowly, Clint guided them out of their son's nursery, the two making their way to their own bedroom. They reluctantly parted so Clint could change into his own sleepwear. Then Clint followed Natasha into bed, climbing under the sheets and wrapping his arms around her waist lovingly. "I missed you, Tasha," he whispered as he lifted his head to press his lips to hers softly. Natasha sighed contently into the kiss, bringing her hands up to trail them through Clint's spiky hair. Their tongues met briefly before Clint pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. Then he moved so his left ear rested over her heartbeat, the archer sighing in contentment at the sound. "Now, I really am home," he teased softly.

Natasha couldn't help but roll her eyes at Clint's words. "Artyom is most definitely your son," she replied drily, bending her head so she could press her lips to Clint's forehead. "I missed you too, Clint," she added softly, smiling when Clint started humming softly against her chest. And then she recognised the song. "You're such a cheesy fucker," she told him, making him chuckle before beginning to sing the words.

"London, Paris, Tokyo  
Thinkin' of you wherever I go  
When I close my eyes  
You're by my side  
A thousand miles can't keep us apart  
You're tender words serenade my heart  
And you keep me smiling, perfect timing  
I wish that you were here with me tonight

See I travelled all around the world now  
And I've seen so many beautiful girls now  
But somehow, no one ever comes close to you  
You know I've been so many different places  
And I've seen so many pretty faces  
But baby, no one ever comes close to you  
Close to you, close to you

Planes and trains through sudden rain  
Another hotel another daybreak  
And I'm on my way  
I called to say  
I wish that you were here with me tonight

See I travelled around the world now  
And I've seen so many beautiful girls now  
But somehow, no one ever comes close to you  
You know I've been so many different places  
And I've seen so many pretty faces  
But baby, no one ever comes close to you  
Close to you, close to you

And it feels like  
You are always with me  
On these long nights  
Another lonely city  
You are right here, right now  
Cause in my mind I never left at all  
Never left at all

See I travelled around the world now  
And I've seen so many beautiful girls now  
But somehow, no one ever comes close to you  
You know I've been so many different places  
And I've seen so many pretty faces  
But baby, no one ever comes close to you

See I travelled around the world now  
And I've seen so many beautiful girls now  
But somehow, no one ever comes close to you  
You know I've been so many different places  
And I've seen so many pretty faces  
But baby, no one ever comes close to you  
Close to you, close to you

Can you hear me  
Can you hear me  
Close to you, close to you."

Natasha shook her head. "Cheesy fucker," she repeated, making Clint laugh against her skin before pulling his head up to grin at her cheekily. She leaned up and pressed her lips to her husband's once more. She knew that they would have to have a conversation about how his mission had gone and what they were going to do now, but she didn't have the energy to do any of that at the moment.

Clint noticed that Natasha was more tired than she let on. "Did you sleep much while I was away?" he whispered against her chest, moving them so Natasha was curled up against his chest. When she hesitantly shook her head, he sighed slightly, nuzzling his nose in her hair. "Sleep, Tasha. We both need to sleep," he whispered into her hair.

Natasha simply hummed in response, not even attempt to try to argue with her husband. They were both exhausted. And they would need their energy for what was to come…

* * *

The next morning Natasha woke up to the smell of breakfast filling her nostrils. She twisted her head and buried her face in her husband's pillow, smiling softly at the memory of her husband returning the previous night. She lay for a few more minutes, simply relaxing in her husband's scent in their sheets.

A few minutes passed before the red-head felt her husband's lips trace the length of her spine over the fabric of her nightshirt. She smiled into the pillow, biting back a moan as her Hawk straddled her back. He kissed his way along her shoulders, never touching her with his hands which were planted solidly on the pillows either side of her head. At the nape of her neck, he gently bit down and Natasha let out a soft moan. Opening her eyes she twisted her head to look at her mate. "Good morning, Мой Ястреб," she purred, smiling sleepily at her husband.

"Good morning, моя прекрасная жена," he replied, pecking her lips softly. "I made you breakfast," he whispered against her lips.

Natasha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Clint's words. "Did you not say, at the start of our relationship;  _It's my job to cook_ ," she teased.

Clint rested his forehead against the nape of Natasha's neck. "That. I was messing with you about that. I would never…" he started before Natasha rolled them over and planted her lips on his softly.

"I know. I'm only messing with you," she whispered after pulling away, smiling at her husband softly. "Come on. The boys will be awake soon. We should eat before they keep us busy for the day," she added, climbing out of the bed and grabbing Clint's hands and pulling him up out of the bed. She frowned when she noticed the various new cuts and bruises littering Clint's body.

Clint noticed Natasha's frown and he immediately took her face between his hands. "Nothing serious, Tasha. Minor cuts and bruises. Nothing broken. I'm fine," he whispered, placing a placating kiss on her luscious lips. "I'm fine. I'm home now," he added.

Natasha simply nodded and caught Clint's hand, leading him out of their bedroom and down to the kitchen. The couple stopped in surprise when they found Erik sitting at the counter, waiting patiently. The red-head turned her head to look at her husband, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He simply mouthed, 'Training,' to her, not knowing what else to say. Natasha's eyes slid closed as she shuddered at the thought of what else the Red Room had done to her nephew. Opening her eyes again, she made her way over to Erik.

"Hi, Erik," she greeted, smiling warmly at the three-year-old. She sat down beside her nephew, taking in his attire. "We're going to go into town to get you some new clothes. And some things to do up your room. Is that okay?" she asked, smiling softly at him.

Erik nodded his head rapidly before lifting his arms to Natasha. She took him in her arms, wrapping her arms around him gently. Erik couldn't help but think of his mother when he looked at Natasha. The only difference between the two was Natasha's hair was red while Anya's hair was blonde. Other than that the two were practically identical. "Please don't make me leave, Natasha. I promise I'll be good. I be the best," he whispered in Russian, clinging to Natasha desperately.

Natasha's heart broke at Erik's desperate tone; she knew then and there, she was never letting Erik out of her life. "Never, Erik. You're here to stay," she replied…

* * *

Later on, after Artyom's feeding and lunch, the small family was outside. Erik was running around the yard with Lucky, the Labrador finding a new lease of life with the three-year-old. Natasha and Clint were sitting on the porch watching Erik while Clint held Artyom, the twenty-eight-year-old wanting to spend time with his son after being away for almost a month.

"Clint. I don't want to let Erik go. Especially since he's my nephew," Natasha whispered as she turned her head to look at her husband, reluctantly removing her eyes from where Lucky and Erik were playing outside in the lump of freshly cut grass.

"Tasha, I didn't expect you to want that," Clint whispered as he kissed her softly, shifting Artyom in his arms so he wouldn't be squished between them. "I've gotten very fond of that kid, even though he's only been here for little over a day. I seriously beginning to think it must be a Romanoff thing," he added, grinning at Natasha cheekily as she interlaced the fingers of their hands and leaned against him, her eyes switching between Artyom and Erik.

"So. If I were to suggest that we adopt him as  _our_  son… Would you disagree with me?" Natasha whispered softly, not knowing what Clint would say.

"I think that is a brilliant idea, Natasha," Clint whispered as he rubbed comforting circles on Natasha's knuckles as she continued to watch Erik play with Lucky while Artyom continued to suck on his pacifier. "Erik Luka Barton. Sounds perfect, don't you think?" he added with a tender smile.

Natasha smiled and nodded. "Now all we need to do is ask Erik for his opinion," she replied softly…

* * *

"Erik, we have a question for you," Clint started as he sat down on the bed, looking at Natasha, Artyom and Erik. "If you'd like, Natasha and I would like to adopt you. Which means you will be staying with us," Clint explained, both he and Natasha watching the young boy carefully.

"So Natasha would be my Mama and you would be my Papa," Erik stated, looking between the two adults.

"If you want that then yes," Natasha replied, smiling at the boy softly. Suddenly, Natasha had Erik's arms wrapped around her neck, the young boy nodding and ranting 'yes' in Russian into her ear.

Natasha smiled softly at her husband as she held their oldest son close to her with her free arm as Clint gently took Artyom from where he had been resting against her chest. Clint climbed onto the bed and sat beside Natasha, wrapping his arms around his family protectively and lovingly.

"I love you, Natasha," Clint whispered as he watched Erik fall asleep in Natasha's arms as Artyom continued to sleep in the archer's arms.

"I love you too, Clint," Natasha whispered, smiling as she let her eyes drift close. Exhaustion had begun to take over her body, one thought crossing her mind; her family was safe.


	34. Safe And Sound

Natasha smiled down at Erik as he sat in her lap, humming 'Twinkle Twinkle' in Russian. He was colouring in his colouring book, the three-year-old comfortable sitting in her arms. The two were sitting down on the window ledge in the master bedroom, Natasha with her back against the wall while Erik sat with her arms wrapped around him lovingly.

"Mama, is that okay?" Erik asked as he held up the book so he could show Natasha the page he had been colouring.

"That looks beautiful, Мой Малютка," Natasha replied, pressing her lips lovingly into her oldest son's spiky hair.

"Where's Papa and Artyom?" Erik asked as he put his book and crayon down before curling up in Natasha's arms while the red-head tightened her arms around him protectively.

"Papa's walking around with Artyom so he can help get Artyom to settle enough to be fed, Erik. They should be back soon," Natasha replied with a smile just as her husband and four-month-old son entered the master bedroom. "Here they are," she added, smiling at her archer and youngest son while her oldest giggled at them.

"Hey, buddy. Tasha. Miss us?" Clint greeted as he walked over to his wife and oldest son. The archer smiled at the two as he sat down beside them on the ledge, smiling as Erik smiled at his little brother lovingly.

Erik nodded before yawning slightly, exhaustion finally began to kick in. He was a very energetic child, keeping Natasha and Clint on their toes at all times.

"Come on, Erik, bedtime," Natasha whispered, smiling at the little boy when he wrapped his small arms around her neck, shaking his head half-heartedly.

"No, Mama. Wanna stay up," Erik mumbled sleepily against the skin of Natasha's neck.

Natasha smiled at Clint as they had a silent conversation before the red-head whispered into her son's ear. "Do you want to stay with me and Papa tonight?"

Erik nodded enthusiastically - albeit, sleepily - at Natasha's offer, tightening his small arms around his mother's neck. "Yes please, Mama," the little boy whispered before he slowly lost his fight against sleep.

"Our sons are so Mama's boys," Clint stated teasingly as the couple stood up and walked over to their bed with their sons in their arms.

"Oh shud'up, Clint," Natasha mumbled as she set Erik down in the middle of the bed before taking a slowly waking Artyom off of Clint so she could breastfeed him while Clint climbed in beside their oldest son. "Our sons take after you: they have me wrapped up around their little fingers," she replied, smiling lovingly at the archer.

Clint returned his wife's smile as she slowly climbed into the bed on the other side of Erik. "I love you, Mrs. Barton," he whispered as he pressed his lips against hers softly, making sure not to squash their oldest son.

"I love you too, Mr. Barton," Natasha whispered against his lips as Artyom finished feeding and curled up against Natasha's chest. The couple shared one more smile before they lay down, Clint's arms resting over Erik and Natasha protectively so he could keep his family safe...

* * *

 

"Natasha?" Clint whispered as he walked into Erik's bedroom where Natasha was watching Erik sleep soundly in his bed. The red-head was sitting on the window ledge, wearing an old plaid shirt that had once belonged to him. She looked up when he entered the room, both remaining quiet so they wouldn't wake their oldest son.

"Hi, Clint. How come you're up so early?" Natasha whispered as her husband walked over to her. When he reached her, she moved her legs so he could stand between them.

"You're up," Clint whispered as if that explained everything.

"Couldn't sleep," Natasha replied simply, smiling at her husband softly as she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. "Why are you up? It's only 07.00," she whispered as she let her fingers play with the hairs on the nape of his neck tenderly.

"I woke up, you weren't there. So I came to investigate," the archer replied softly, resting his forehead against his wife's, watching her body language carefully. "What's wrong?" he whispered when he noticed that Natasha's eyes were still watching Erik's sleeping form carefully.

"I never planned on having kids, Clint. I'm afraid that I'm going to be a bad mother," Natasha whispered softly, her eyes never meeting Clint's as she spoke.

Clint frowned slightly at her words. He brought his left hand to his wife's chin and caught it gently and guiding her face up so he could look her in the eye. "Tasha, you are a brilliant mother. Why do you doubt yourself?" the archer whispered, not understanding why she was doubting herself. Before he had left, she was perfectly content with being a mother, her only fear being that someone would try to hurt their son.

Natasha opened her mouth to reply just as the couple heard Erik wake up. The red-head easily slid off the window ledge and walked over to the bed, smiling at Erik tenderly. "Hey, Мой Малютка," Natasha whispered as she sat down on the bed beside him. "How are you feeling this morning?" she whispered as she leaned down and pressed her lips to Erik's forehead softly, smiling at him lovingly. He had felt sick the previous evening and went to bed earlier than usual. And she was worried he was coming down with the flu.

"Better, Mama. I don't feel sick at all," Erik replied as he wrapped his small arms around Natasha's neck. He hugged her tightly as she wrapped her arms around his waist and sat up again.

Clint smiled at the two as he walked over to them, sitting down beside Natasha on the side closest to Erik. He wrapped his strong arms around the two protectively and lovingly. "Morning, Buddy," the archer whispered as he kissed the crown of his son's head lovingly.

"Morning, Papa," Erik replied with a grin, tightening his arms around Natasha's neck before frowning slightly. "Where's Artyom?" the three-year-old asked as he noticed his little brother wasn't with them.

"Artyom's still sleeping, Erik. He went to bed later than usual last night," Natasha explained, watching her little boy think over her words before nodding in agreement. Natasha smiled at Clint softly as Erik began to hum in their ears.

Suddenly, Lucky bounded into the room, his tail waggling just as the three heard Artyom crying across the room, signalling that the four-month-old was now awake. "Come on, Buddy. Let's get you dressed and then get you your breakfast," Clint said to Erik as he stood up and helped his oldest son off of Natasha. The archer smiled at his wife lovingly before pressing his lips against hers softly. "See you in a few minutes, Моя Паук," he whispered against her lips.

Natasha returned her husband's smile before standing up as well, following the archer and their oldest son out of his and heading towards the nursery to tend to her youngest son. The red-head smiled as she walked over to the crib, smiling at the small boy lovingly as she picked him up.

"Hey, Мой Маленький Ястреб," she whispered as she pulled down her shirt to allow her youngest son to feed. Once Artyom had begun to feed, the red-head traced her fingers over his face tenderly, her soft smile growing as he wrapped his small hands firmly around two of her fingers. "I love you," she whispered, even though she knew he was too young to understand what she meant. But even if he didn't, Natasha would make sure that her sons - and any other children she and Clint would have in the future - knew that she loved them with all her heart...

* * *

 

Natasha smiled as she turned off the lights in Erik's room, having just finished reading him his bedtime story. She watched as Lucky curled up beside the three-year-old boy protectively, smiling at the two softly. The red-head closed out the door and walked to the nursery to check on Artyom, having put the little boy down only half an hour earlier. She walked over to the crib and smiled as she noticed the little boy had his small hands balled up in fists, his own personal fighting stance as Clint affectionately dubbed it the first time he seen it. The red-head bent down and pressed her lips to Artyom's head before leaving the room.

The red-head made her way back to the master bedroom, freezing as she noticed the red rose pedals on the bed. And her husband was nowhere to be seen. Yet. Natasha made her way over to the bed, a confused look on her face before, suddenly, she felt two familiar strong arms wrap around her waist.

"Hey, Моя Паук," Clint whispered into his wife's ear, grinning as she shivered at the proximity of his voice at her ear. The archer grinned as he nipped at Natasha's pulse point playfully, smirking as the red-head bit back a moan in reply.

"Clint," Natasha moaned as her husband bit and sucked on the skin behind her ear. The red-head brought her hands to her husband's arms as he continued to tease her skin with his lips and teeth, leaving several love bits along her usually pale skin.

"Ah, ah, Mrs. Barton. I don't think I told you that you could speak or move," Clint whispered into the red-head's ear as he nipped at the lobe of her ear playfully teasingly. "Did I?"

"No, Master," Natasha replied with a sinful moan as well as using her natural accent, feeling the result of her actions against the curve of her ass. Her smirk grew as her husband groaned his approval and grinded his erection harder against her ass.

"Good girl," Clint whispered as he rubbed his two-day-old stubble against Natasha's cheek while slowly running his left hand down to the apex of Natasha's thighs. He cupped her firmly, making the red-head gasp at the sudden sensation. "You like that?" the archer teased as he slid his hands into the red-head's sweat pants and past her panties, rubbing his callused thumb against her clit.

"Oh God. Yes. Master," Natasha moaned as her husband slid two of his fingers inside her.

"Say it," Clint ordered, smirking as Natasha moaned sinfully as he curled and spread his fingers inside of her.

"Yes, Master. I like it when you finger me," Natasha whispered huskily, moaning loudly as her archer pumped his fingers inside her soaking cunt.

"That's what I thought," Clint whispered tauntingly. He brought his right hand up to cup and massage his wife's right breast firmly, using his thumb and index finger to pull on her erect nipple. "Turn your head to look at me," the archer ordered, grinning as Natasha did exactly what he said without question. "Kiss me," he ordered softly.

Natasha smirked in reply and did as she was told, kissing her husband passionately. Clint grinned into the kiss and sucked on his wife's bottom lip greedily, knowing Natasha was close to coming as he felt her walls quiver around his fingers.

Suddenly, Clint pulled away, making Natasha whined at the loss of contact. He led her into their playroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, smirking up at the red-head as she tried to control her body's urges. "Strip," the archer ordered, making the red-head raise an eyebrow at him but did as she was told. "Slowly," the archer added, making the red-head grin at him seductively.

"Of course, Master," Natasha replied as she did as she was told, lacing her words with her natural accent. Her actions making Clint growl possessively in reply. The red-head grinned as she slowly pulled off her shirt and pants, watching as her husband's breathing hitched as he found she was no longer wearing a bra, having removed it when she had been feeding Artyom.

"Come here," Clint ordered with an animal-like growl. Natasha did as her husband told her, gasping as Clint suddenly grabbed her hips and pressed his lips lovingly against the spot of kiss directly above her belly button. "You are beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy. Perfect," the archer whispered softly against his wife's stomach before bringing his left hand to her pussy, sliding two fingers through Natasha's slit teasingly.

Natasha gasped at the sensation, panting as she tried to keep her body from moving at her husband's ministrations. Suddenly, Clint stood up and lifted Natasha, wrapping his arms around her waist before slowly putting her onto the bed. The archer quickly removed his boxers before climbing onto the bed and straddling his wife gently.

"Hands," Clint requested, holding out his own until she gave him hers. Once she did, the archer put them up on the pillows in the position he wanted them before retracting his own and grabbing two sets of leather handcuffs.

"Where the fuck did you get those handcuffs?" Natasha asked, never having seen this particular set before.

Clint raised an amused eyebrow at his wife as he handcuffed her hands to the headboard separately, grinning at her mischievously. "Mrs Barton, I didn't give you permission to speak," the archer whispered as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Natasha's neck, sucking and nipping on the skin hungrily.

"Sorry, Master," Natasha gasped as her husband slowly made his way down her body, pausing at her breasts.

"You're forgiven, Natasha," Clint whispered before latching his lips to his wife's left breast, pulling away when liquid suddenly entered his mouth. It had been a while since he had played with her tits like that. "That is supposed to happen, isn't it?" he asked, making the red-head chuckle at him lightly.

"How else do you think I'm supposed to feed Artyom? There's no off and on switch," the red-head replied with a smirk as she watched her husband think over her words.

Clint cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders before replying, "Don't be cheeky, Mrs. Barton. You are at my mercy." He leaned down to repeat his previous actions, making sure to spend equal amount of time lavishing her nipples. His ministrations made Natasha throw her head back in pleasure at the sensation, gasping and moaning his name sinfully.

'God,' she thought as her husband switched his lips again, 'How did I last the last month without him?'

Clint, once happy with the fact that he had spent equal amount of time on both of his wife's nipples, pulled away and reached over to the bedside locker and grabbed the single rose and chocolate syrup. Natasha wondered how she hadn't seen those before now.

The red-head's breath hitched as she watched her archer spray some of the syrup around her breasts, leaving her nipples bare. "Is there a lesson to be learned here, Master?" the red-head whispered as Clint slowly pulled six pedals off the rose and placing three on each of her nipples in the shape of a heart.

"Yeah," Clint whispered as he put the bottle and rose down on the bed. "Look me in the eye, Natasha," the archer requested, the red-head doing as she was told. "You are a brilliant mother to our sons," he whispered, locking his stormy grey eyes with her emerald green ones. "Erik and Artyom love you. I love you. I've learned since Artyom was born that being a good parent means knowing what not to do - because no new parent knows what exactly to do. Between the both of us, we know a million and one ways how not to raise a child, Tasha. No parent is perfect. Trying to be is half the battle," he finished, leaning up and pressing his lips to his wife's softly.

Natasha nodded and kissed her husband back, equally as passionately as Clint. He cupped her right cheek and kissed her hungrily, making them both grin into the desperate kiss. "I love you, Natasha," the archer whispered when they finally pulled away, both panting heavily from lack of oxygen.

"I love you too, Clinton," Natasha whispered, smiling tenderly up at her husband. She moaned as he kissed his way down his wife's chest until he was just above the chocolate syrup. Her eyes darkened from uncontrolled lust as the red-head watched her husband ran his tongue along the design he had made with the sauce.

Clint grinned as he slowly licked his wife's breasts clean, smirking as he watched as her breath caught in her throat at his actions. The archer grabbed the bottle of syrup once more as he slowly moved his way down her body, spreading more of it down her body to her pussy, licking it up as he moved.

"Clint!" Natasha cried out as he pushed three fingers inside her entrance, the red-head arching her body at the sensation.

Clint grinned up at the red-head as he slowly curled and spread his fingers inside her pussy, lapping at her clit. He kept his eyes on hers as he worked her to the edge. "Come for me, Natasha," the archer ordered in between laps before latching his lips to her clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves greedily. And that was all that was needed to send the red-head over the edge.

"Clint!" Natasha screamed in ecstasy as she came hard around her husband's fingers, her hips bucking up into Clint's face. The red-head slumped onto the bed as she slowly came down from her high, her hips still bucking upwards every now and again as the archer finished lapping up the rewards for his ministrations.

Eventually, Clint pulled his fingers out of Natasha, making the red-head gasped at the loss of contact. He kissed his way back up her body, taking his time to clean his fingers of her juices with his mouth.

"Hey, Gorgeous," the archer whispered as he kissed Natasha deeply, grinning as the red-head moaned when she tasted herself in his mouth.

"Hey, Handsome," Natasha replied, grinning up at her husband lovingly. "I love you," she whispered as he released her hands.

"I love you too," Clint whispered as he brought her hands to his mouth, pressing soft loving kisses to the slightly red skin.

Natasha slowly slid her right hand down between their bodies and into Clint's boxers, gripping his rock hard member firmly. "I think you should get some relief for your stiff problem," she whispered teasingly in her natural husky Russian accent, making Clint groan in approval and her doubled meaning pun.

"You willing to help me?" Clint replied as he moved his head to the crook of his wife's neck, panting heavily as the red-head pumped his length firmly.

"Get rid of your boxers. And stick that big, thick cock of yours inside me now," the Russian ordered, making her husband chuckle but remove his boxers off quickly with little help from the red-head.

"Oh. And where do you want me Mrs Barton?" Clint whispered teasingly as he grabbed his cock and slid it teasingly along Natasha's slit, making the red-head throw her head back at the sensation.

"I want you to slid that big, thick cock of yours inside my cunt and take me so hard that I'll pass out when you make me come, Mr. Barton," Natasha replied, panting heavily as she locked her lust-filled eyes with her husband's equally lustful grey ones.

Clint returned her feral grin as he positioned himself at her entrance. "As you wish, Моя Паук," the archer whispered as he slid into her, making sure to take his time to allow his wife to stretch to his length after it had been a while since the last time they had made love to each other.

"Fuck," Natasha gasped as her walls stretched to accommodate the thick length of her husband's cock. The red-head allowed the archer to move her legs so one was wrapped tightly his waist and the other was resting over one of his broad shoulders. "You can move now, Clint," the red-head whispered as she wrapped her arms around his back.

Clint nodded and slowly slid backwards until only the tip of his cock was inside her entrance before slamming back inside her. His actions made the red-head gasp in pleasure at the sensation. Natasha almost screamed her approval in reply, digging her nails into the archer's back as he set a blistering pace of pumping inside her.

The archer braced his forearms on either side of Natasha's head, resting his forehead against hers, watching her facial expressions as he continued his pace. "Is this what you want?" Clint whispered, moving his left hand to grab Natasha's hair, making her look at him with almost black eyes.

"Yes. Oh God yes," Natasha moaned, her hips meeting Clint's thrust for thrust. "Oh God. I'm close. I'm so fucking close," she gasped, her nails leaving long red marks on her husband's back.

"Good," Clint whispered as he brought his right hand in between their bodies and rubbed his thumb over her clit, making Natasha gasp at his actions. "Come for me, Natasha," he whispered just as one of his thrusts hit a particular spot inside Natasha, sending the red-head straight over the edge.

The archer thrusted once more inside her before spilling his seed inside of the red-head, her nails scratching his back deeply. Clint collapsed onto his wife, the two panting deeply as they came from their mutual high.

Eventually, Clint raised his head from the crook of Natasha's neck and rested his head against his wife's. "Natasha?" he whispered softly, noting how the red-head's eyes were still closed.

Natasha slowly opened her eyes to find her husband smirking at her knowingly. "I passed out, didn't I?" she whispered softly.

"Yup," Clint replied childishly, grinning boyishly. "Did you learn your lesson?" he whispered softly,

"Don't doubt myself again?" Natasha replied, even though it sounded more like a question.

"Exactly," Clint replied as he kissed Natasha softly. "I love you, Моя Паук," he whispered against her lips as he slowly flipped them over so Natasha was on top of him.

"I love you too, Мой Ястреб," Natasha whispered softly as she rested her head in the crook of her husband's neck. She pressed her lips against his pulse point lovingly before letting sleep take over her body.

Clint smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist protectively as he followed her to sleep…

* * *

Erik laughed as Barney pouted at Ashley, the thirty-three-year-old trying to convince his brunette fiancée to allow him to teach their children how to prank their uncle when they were old: Ashley was having none of it. She had witnessed how well her fiancée could prank when they were children.

Barney turned and grinned at Erik when he decided that his pouting wouldn't work. So he decided another approach. "Erik, would you like to learn how to prank your Dad?" he asked, earning a glare from Ashley and Clint.

"Nope," the three-year-old replied, grinning as Natasha helped him eat his dinner. The red-head smiled and pressed her lips to his forehead when he looked for more of the chicken curry.

As Barney and Ashley entered another playful debate about teaching their expectant twins Barney's old tricks, Natasha and Clint looked at each other with happy grins on their faces as their oldest son sat happily in between them. The red-head brought her left hand up and brushed some of the spikes that had fallen down on Erik's face, pushing them out of the way of the young boy's watchful teal eyes.

"We'll have to cut that hair of yours soon, Erik," Natasha stated as she helped the little boy finish his dinner.

"Can you cut my hair like Papa's?" Erik requested, looking up at his mother with hopeful big teal eyes.

"Of course, Мой Малютка,," Natasha responded as she let the little boy climb into her lap. "And you get to teach Auntie Ashley and Uncle Barney's child how to prank Uncle Barney when they are old enough," the red-head whispered in Russian into her oldest son's ear.

"And Artyom?" Erik asked, making both Clint and Natasha smirk.

"And Artyom," Natasha responded as she held her oldest son close to her. At the same time, she interlaced the fingers of her left hand with those of Clint's right, smiling as she looked around the table, at her family.

"Natasha," Clint started in Russian, turning to look at his wife. "I'm glad I made that different call in Moscow," the archer whispered, smiling at the red-head tenderly.

Natasha smiled at her archer lovingly, glancing at Erik in her arms and Artyom in Clint's, and replied, "So am I, Clint."

* * *

 _Well, you done done me and you bet I felt it_  
I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted  
I fell right through the cracks  
Now I'm trying to get back

 _Before the cool done run out_  
I'll be giving it my bestest  
And nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention.  
I reckon, it's again my turn  
To win some or learn some.

 _But I won't hesitate_  
No more, no more.  
It cannot wait,  
I'm yours.

 _Well, open up your mind and see like me,_  
Open up your plans and damn you're free.  
Look into your heart and you'll find love, love, love, love.  
Listen to the music of the moment, people dance and sing, we're just one big family  
And it's our God-forsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved

 _So I won't hesitate_  
No more, no more.  
It cannot wait,  
I'm sure.  
There's no need to complicate.  
Our time is short.  
This is our fate,  
I'm yours.

_Do you want to come on, scooch on over closer, dear  
And I will nibble your ear_

_I've been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror_  
And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer  
But my breath fogged up the glass  
And so I drew a new face and I laughed.

 _I guess what I'll be saying is there ain't no better reason_  
To rid yourself of vanities and just go with the seasons.  
It's what we aim to do.  
Our name is our virtue.

 _But I won't hesitate_  
No more, no more.  
It cannot wait,  
I'm yours.

 _Well, open up your mind and see like me,_  
Open up your plans and damn you're free.  
Look into your heart and you'll find that the sky is yours.  
So please don't, please don't, please don't...  
There's no need to complicate.  
'Cause our time is short.  
This oh, this oh, this is our fate.  
I'm yours.

 _Oh, I'm yours_  
Oh, I'm yours  
Oh, oh,  
Baby, do you believe, I'm yours?  
You best believe, you best believe, I'm yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the last chapter of this instalment of my Fifty Shades series. I hope to put the epilogue up within the next week and the next instalment within the month. As well as finish my other stories :) Thank you to everyone for their absolutely amazing support and kindness. You have no idea how much it has helped me with my personal health problems. I hope to continue to live up to all of your expectations and as long as you all want, I will continue writing :) xxxx


	35. Epilogue

**_13_ ** **_th_ ** **_February 2008…_ **

Natasha stuck her tongue out at Erik cheekily as they waited for Barney to come out of the room. Clint was sitting with Artyom in his lap, the latter sucking sleepily on his pacifier. The nine-month-old had learned how to walk with support only days earlier and was, like his big brother, keeping his parents on their toes. He often climbed where he shouldn't be, frightening the crap out of his parents on more than one occasion. He was exactly like his father when he did that, according to Natasha.

Clint smiled at his wife as Erik stuck out his tongue at Natasha. Then the four-year-old giggled at his mother and buried his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling her neck before yawning sleepily. It was 22.56 and both boys refused to leave until they met their new cousins. They had waited to meet Maria and Nick's baby girl, Tara Kate and now they were going to wait to meet Uncle Barney and Auntie Ashley's babies.

Ashley had insisted on having a normal birth. She didn't mind the epidural but she was adamantly against having a C-section. Despite Barney arguing against her decision…

* * *

 

_"_ _I'm not letting them cut me up, Charles. End of discussion," Ashley told her husband as they entered the house on Christmas Day, carrying presents._

_Barney followed his wife inside as Natasha exited the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at Clint. What the Hell was going on? "I don't know why you're so against this, Ashley. You're having twins. Having a C-section is normal," Barney argued, looking to Natasha and Clint for help._

_Clint raised his hands and retreated into the hallway to head up to Artyom's bedroom to get his youngest son. Natasha rolled her eyes and turned to Barney. "Barney, it's Ashley's body. She should have to ask you how she wants to treat or not treat it," the red-head told her brother-in-law, raising an eyebrow when he opened his mouth to argue._

_Erik ran into the kitchen before anything else could be said. "Auntie Ashley! Uncle Barney!" he shouted as he ran over to his Godparents. He threw his arms around Ashley's baby bump and whispered, "Hi, Babies."_

_The adults grinned at Erik. Everyone had thought that he would have had a hard time adjusting to city life and an ever-growing family. And yet, he had surprised them all. Again._

_After he got his hugs, Erik led Barney out to the living-room where all the presents were set up and awaiting their other guests. Then Natasha turned to Ashley. "He's scared," the red-head stated bluntly, making Ashley raise an eyebrow._

_"_ _You see it too?" the brunette asked, looking out the kitchen window._

_"_ _Clint was as well. We both know why they're so protective," Natasha replied, earning a nod from Ashley. "Even though they try to act like they're not scared."_

_"_ _He going to be extra protective over the last few months?" Ashley asked, sipping her herbal tea._

_Natasha snorted. "If he's anything like his brother, most definitely…"_

* * *

 

Natasha was brought out of her thoughts as Barney exited the room with a very proud grin on his face. "Hey guys. Want to meet my kids?"

Erik immediately sat more alert, glancing up at Natasha and Clint with big pleading eyes. They both chuckled and stood, following Barney inside the private room. Ashley sat up in bed with many pillows behind her. In her left arm, she held one of the twins while Barney gently took the other child from her right arm.

Erik gently climbed up onto the bed, careful not to hurt Ashley, to look at his new baby cousins. The four-year-old smiled as he looked at them. "What's their names?" he asked his aunt.

"This is Adam Nathaniel," Ashley replied with a smile, gesturing to the baby boy in her arms. "And Barney's holding James Clinton."

Both Natasha and Clint looked at the new parents with shock all over their faces. They never, in their wildest imagination, thought that Barney and Ashley would name their children after either of them. Let alone both of them.

"Ashley, Barney," they both started but Barney shut them up before they could say anything.

"Don't say anything. You knew you were going to be Godparents to a child each. Knowing my genes, they're going to be troublemakers. So you don't need to be thankful for that," the thirty-four-year-old stated, smirking when Ashley groaned playfully.

"And now I'm stuck with three of you," she teased, earning a hurt pout from her husband.

Natasha and Clint shook their heads; This was their family….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't cry. This is the last of Fifty Shades of Barton. But Fifty Shades Darker will be ready to be put upon the 30th of August – I do need time to work on other stories too ;)
> 
> And, Christmas and moving does happen in the first two chapters of the next instalment ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think? I'm an addict for constructive reviews :)


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